21: Sumana, Aggidatta and Jambuka
The Story of the Flower-Seller Sumana
The Buddha taught a verse, beginning with the words (Dhp 68): Tañ-ca kammaṁ kataṁ sādhu, “having done an act, the doer has no bitter regret for it,” on the advantages of a reward for a deed of merit with reference to a flower seller named Sumana of Rājagaha during his stay at Veḷuvana monastery in that city (for the story see DhpA V.9).
The flower seller used to present King Bimbisāra with eight measures of Royal Jasmine (Jasminum grandiflorum) every morning, for which he was granted eight pieces of money each day. One day, as Sumana was entering the city with the flowers as usual, the Buddha, attended by many monastics, was also entering the city for alms round, with a radiant light shining forth from his body, and with great dignity, splendour and the glories of a Perfectly Awakened Buddha.
Sometimes, the Buddha used to go round, like an ordinary monastic on an alms round, with the six radiant lights concealed by the robes. For instance he went out all alone incognito to a distance of 30 leagues to meet Aṅgulimāla, the notorious robber. But, at other times, he used to go with radiant light shining, for instance, when he went on alms round in the city of Kapilavatthu. And, on this day, when he was to meet Sumana, the flower seller, the Buddha entered the city of Rājagaha with radiant light shining forth from his body, and with great dignity, splendour and the glories of a Perfectly Awakened Buddha.
When Sumana saw the Buddha – with a body like an ornamented gateway column, replete with the 32 major characteristics and 80 minor characteristics, with the six-coloured radiant light emitting from his body – enter Rājagaha to go on alms round with great dignity, splendour and with the glory of a Perfectly Awakened Buddha, there arose in him intense devotional faith and reverence for him.
He then considered: “What kind of offering should I make to gain merit?” When he could not think of anything with which to pay homage to the Buddha, he thought of offering the flowers in his hands. But, on second thought, he came to realize: “These are the flowers meant for presentation to the king, as a matter of daily routine. If I fail to do my daily duty, I shall be liable to be put in the stocks, bound with ropes and imprisoned or executed or expelled from the country. What should I do?” A bold thought entered his mind at this juncture: “Let the king kill me, should he so desire, put me in jail, expel me from the country. I might be rewarded by the king for carrying out the daily duty; such a fortune would be sufficient for my livelihood during the present life. But if such an offering is made to the Buddha, it is certain that I will reap the fruits of my meritorious act for aeons to come.” He, therefore, decided to sacrifice his life in making his homage to the Buddha.
He was, at the same time, mindful that he should act while his intense devotional faith was at its pitch and so he started offering the flowers in the following manner:
1. First, he threw two handfuls of flowers high above the head of the Buddha; the flowers formed into the shape of a canopied ceiling, hanging in the air right above the head of the Buddha.
2. Then he threw two handfuls of flowers in a like manner; the flowers came down, standing in the form of a flower curtain on the right side of the Buddha.
3. Again, he threw two handfuls of flowers in a like manner; the flowers came down, standing in the form of a flower curtain at the back of the Buddha.
4. Lastly, he threw two handfuls of flowers in a like manner; the flowers came down, standing in the form of a flower curtain on the left side of the Buddha.
Thus, the eight measures of Royal Jasmine flowers stood around the Buddha like a canopied ceiling with curtains of flowers on the top, right, left and back, leaving a space in front just enough for the Buddha to enter. It is remarkable that the flowers fell in place with the flower stalks turning inward and petals outward in an orderly fashion.
The flower curtain around the Buddha, like a silver screen, moved along together with him as if it were an animate body, without sundering apart or falling down. It stopped wherever the Buddha made a rest. Rays of light emitted continuously from five places: the front and the back, the right and left sides and from atop the head of the Buddha, like millions of flashes of lightning. Having emerged from the body of the Buddha, every single shaft of these radiances first turned clockwise three times round him, forming a mass of bright light resembling a search-light beam directed towards the Buddha, the size of a young palm tree, before shooting away ahead of him.
The whole city of Rājagaha with a population of 180 million was agog with excitement and agitation, and came out clamorously. Of the 180 million men and women, there was none who came out without holding vessels filled with alms food for offering.
All the citizens, clamouring and proclaiming aloud and courageously like a lion king, throwing aloft their twisted headdresses, moved along in large groups, leading the procession before the Buddha. The Buddha, in order to bring out the attributes of Sumana, the simple flower seller, walked along the main streets within the city covering an area of approximately three miles. Hence the entire body of Sumana was suffused with five forms of delightful satisfaction (pīti).
Sumana went along with the Buddha only for a distance, like a person who took a plunge into a red orpiment-coloured stream of water, then he entered into the compass of the brilliant radiance emitted by the Buddha and after paying reverential homage to him, he left for home carrying the empty flower basket.
On arrival at his house, his wife asked him: “Where are the flowers?” he replied: “My dear, I have offered the flowers to the Buddha.” His wife then asked: “What about the presentation of flowers to the king?” Whereupon, Sumana replied: “Let the king kill me should he so desire or expel me from the country, but I have offered the flowers to the Buddha at the sacrifice of my life. The eight measures of flowers, which formed only eight handfuls, indeed worked miracles. He then related in detail what had actually happened. The whole 180 million citizens were now following the procession in honour of the Buddha, making loud proclamations. What you are hearing is their cheers congratulating me on my deed of merit.” He told her this in a delightful tone full of deep satisfaction.
Sumana’s wife, being very foolish and ignorant, took not the slightest interest in the miraculous display of the glories of the Buddha and scolded her husband with abusive words and said: “Kings are harsh and ruthless. Once you have incurred their displeasure, your hands and feet may be cut off. I may also be adversely affected by your acts, which may bring ruin on me.”
Nagging continuously, she left, taking away her children to see the king at the palace. The king asked her: “What is your complaint?” She complained thus: “Your majesty, my husband, Sumana, the flower seller, has offered the Buddha all the flowers that were to be presented to you as usual and returned home empty handed. When I asked him: ‘Where are the flowers?’ he related to me what he had done with them. I scolded him in many ways, saying: ‘Kings are very harsh and ruthless. Once you incur their displeasure, your hands and feet may be cut off. I may also be adversely affected by your act which may bring ruin on me.’ After severing my relationship with him, I have come to your presence. Whatever he has done, good or bad, that is his own affair, his own responsibility. Let him fare according to his deeds all by himself, your majesty, I have forsaken that husband of mine and I make this formal report in advance to your majesty.”
King Bimbisāra had become a noble disciple (ariya-sāvaka), having attained the fruition stage of a Stream-enterer (Sotapatti-phala) ever since his meeting with the Buddha at the grove of young palms, near the city of Rājagaha, and, as such, his confidence in him was unshakable.
The king thought: “This woman is so foolish and stupid, she cannot arouse devotional faith in the glories and miraculous powers of the Buddha,” and pretending to be indignant asked her:
The king replied expediently: “Woman, you have done well by severing your relationship with your husband, and now I am to consider what kind of punishment should be meted out to Sumana for offering the Buddha the flowers which were to be presented to me.” Then dismissing the woman, the king went out quickly to pay homage to the Buddha and joining the procession, followed him all the way.
On seeing King Bimbisāra in a reverential mood, the Buddha made it a point to walk along the congested main streets within the city and finally went towards the palace gate. When King Bimbisāra removed the bowl from his hand and started to conduct him into the palace, he noticed the indications that the Buddha had a desire to stop at the courtyard just outside of the palace. He at once had a temporary pavilion erected in the courtyard, and the Buddha and his monastic followers took rest on the prepared seats in the newly erected pavilion.
A question may arise as to: “Why the Buddha did not go into the palace?” The answer is: It occurred to him that, should he choose to go into the palace, the 180 million citizens would not be able to pay obeisance to him and the virtues of Sumana, the flower seller, would not become manifest. True, only Buddhas could show plainly the attributes of virtuous people, when ordinary people try to do honour where honour is due. Others are apt to have a feeling of jealousy.
As the Buddha went inside the pavilion and sat on the seat which was prepared for him, the four screens of flowers moved to the edge of the crowd in the four directions, each standing like living objects. Then the people rallied round him to pay homage; and King Bimbisāra offered hard and soft food of the best quality to the monastics headed by the Buddha. After the meal was over, and when the Buddha had given a discourse of appreciation for it, the four screens of flowers went back to their places surrounding him on four sides. Surrounded by 180 million citizens and amidst deafening sounds of the uproarious crowd, the Buddha returned to the Veḷuvana monastery.
On returning to the palace, after seeing the Buddha off, King Bimbisāra sent for Sumana and asked him: “How were the flowers meant for me offered to the Buddha?” Sumana replied thus: “I offered the flowers to the Buddha, making this resolution: ‘Let the king kill me should he so desire, let him expel me from the country, I will offer these flowers to the Buddha,’ thus have I made the offering of flowers at the risk of my life.” Whereupon, King Bimbisāra said these congratulatory words: “You are a noble person, indeed.” The king then presented Sumana with eight royal elephants, eight royal horses, eight male servants, eight female servants, eight sets of costumes, 8,000 pieces of money, together with eight fully dressed maidens and eight villages, making what is known as the all-eights (sabbaṭṭhaka) reward for a gift consisting of 8x8 things.
This great event made Ven. Ānanda wonder as to what kind of benefit Sumana would derive from his deed of merit which was marked by the sounds that rent the air like thunderous roars of a lion king, and by throwing aloft of thousands of head dresses of citizens from the early part of the morning. Therefore, he went to the Buddha and asked to be enlightened as to what sort of benefit Sumana would enjoy. The Buddha told Ānanda: “Dear son Ānanda, you should not think that Sumana, the flower seller, had made just a small offering! In offering the flowers to me, he had made a liberal alms giving (dāna) of his own life, with full devotional faith in his mind.” (DhpA, PTS 2.46)
Kappānaṁ sata-sahassaṁ, duggatiṁ na gamissati,
ṭhatvā Deva-manussesu, phalaṁ etassa kammuno,
pacchā Paccekasambuddho, Sumano nāma bhavissati.
For this meritorious deed of his, for a full 100,000 aeons, he will not be reborn in the planes of misery. He will be born again and again in the realms of Devas and humans enjoying the fruits of his deed of merit and will become a Paccekabuddha in the future.
This was the Prophecy uttered by Buddha Gotama in response to Ven. Ānanda’s request.
On reaching the Veḷuvana monastery, as the Buddha entered the Scented Chamber, the Jasmine flowers lay behind in heaps at the entrance.
In that evening, the monastics gathered together in the Dhamma Hall and expressed their appreciation of Sumana’s deed of merit and the result, thereof saying: “Friends, the benefit derived by Sumana from his deed of merit is really wonderful, worthy of applause by the snapping of fingers. He has offered the living Buddha a handful of Jasmine flowers at the risk of his life, and for this, he has been rewarded by the king, at that very moment, with gifts made up of eight kinds of animate as well as inanimate objects, each numbering eight (sabbaṭṭhaka).”
The Buddha left his chamber and came to the Dhamma Hall where, after sitting on the Dhamma throne of the Buddha, he asked: “Monastics, what is the subject of your conversation?” They explained the subject of their discussion. He then said: “You are right, monastics, by doing an act for which no feeling of remorse should ever occur, but only the feeling of happiness whenever he dwells upon it every time. A deed of such a nature is indeed worth performing.” And in this connection, he recited the following verse to serve as a maxim of what he had already said (Dhp 68):
Tañ-ca kammaṁ kataṁ sādhu, yaṁ katvā nānutappati,
yassa patīto sumano, vipākaṁ paṭisevati.
Having done an act, the doer has no bitter regret for it; he only enjoys the fruits of that act with joy and gladness. Such an act is faultless and wholesome and is worth doing.
At the end of the discourse 84,000 sentient beings Awakened and gained release from the round of suffering.
The Story of the Ascetic Aggidatta
This discourse of five verses, beginning with the words: Bahuṁ ve saraṇaṁ yanti (Dhp 188-192), was expounded by the Buddha while residing at Jetavana monastery, with reference to a recluse by the name of Aggidatta, formerly a court Brahmin of King Kosala, who was then residing near a pile of sand.
The recluse Aggidatta was living near a pile of sand lying between the three countries of Aṅga, Magadha and Kuru that were adjacent to Rājagaha.
The Brahmin Aggidatta was the court advisor of King Mahā Kosala, father of King Pasedani Kosala. On the expiry of his father, King Pasedani Kosala retained Aggidatta in the same rank as his court advisor, esteeming him as his father’s old counsellor. When Aggidatta went to the palace to attend to duties, he was treated with due respect by the king and was given the same seat which he had occupied before.
One day, it occurred to Aggidatta: “King Pasenadi Kosala treats me with due respect, no doubt, but it is not easy to make kings accept one’s counsel all the time. It is natural that the
So he sought permission from the king and having made public his decision by the beating of drums in the city of Sāvatthī, within seven days he abandoned all his belongings to become a recluse outside of the Buddha’s Dispensation (Sāsana).
10,000 male followers became his disciples and they dwelt at a place situated between the Aṅga, Magadha and Kuru countries. Aggidatta, as their leader, gave them instruction for their observance: “Anyone thinking any of these thoughts: thoughts of sensual desire (kāma-vitakka), thoughts of ill-will (vyāpāda-vitakka), thoughts of harming others (vihiṁsa-vitakka), shall carry one bundle of sand from the river and dump it here.” His disciples promised to observe this disciplinary rule and every time they detected an unwholesome thought, such as thoughts of sensual desire, arising in their mind, they chastised themselves by carrying a bundle of sand from the river and dumping it as promised, in the appointed place. In time, the pile of sand assumed a huge dimension.
The pile of sand was later taken over by a Nāga King named Ahichatta. People from Aṅga, Magadha and Kuru used to come with offerings for the recluses every month. The recluse Aggidatta then exhorted them thus: “Disciples! Go to the hills for refuge, go to the jungles for refuge; go to the parks for refuge; go to the trees for refuge. If you take refuge in the hills, the jungles, the parks and the trees, you will be free from all kinds of suffering.” He also made the same exhortation to his 10,000 recluse disciples.
Aggidatta was popularising himself through teaching wrong practices at a time when the Bodhisatta, as Prince Siddhattha, after renouncing the world, had become a Buddha and was residing in the Jetavana monastery of Sāvatthī. Rising early one morning at dawn and mentally surveying the whole world for sentient beings who were ripe for emancipation, the Buddha perceived in his mind’s eye the recluse Aggidatta together with his 10,000 disciples. The Buddha also knew then that all of them had accomplished the sufficing conditions (upanissaya) for the attainment of Awakening. So he gave instructions to Ven. Mahā Moggallāna, saying: “Son Moggallāna, why have you ignored the recluse Aggidatta who is making people walk along the wrong path that will not lead them to the shores of Nibbāna, son Moggallāna, go now to these recluses and exhort them.”
Ven. Mahā Moggallāna replied: “Most glorious, exalted Buddha, the number of these recluses is great. They might not readily accept the instructions from me alone. Should your reverence also come along, they would readily obey your instructions.” Whereupon, the Buddha responded: “We will come also, but you might go ahead first to exhort them.”
While proceeding first as instructed by the Buddha, Ven. Mahā Moggallāna thought to himself: “These recluses are many and strong, any attempt to give instructions to them while gathering in one place might lead them to turn against me.” So he caused a torrential rain to fall, through the power of his super knowledge (abhiñña), with the result that the recluses rising from their places, rushed into their own dwelling places.
Ven. Mahā Moggallāna then stood in front of the entrance to Aggidatta’s dwelling and called the recluse by name. On hearing Ven. Mahā Moggallāna’s voice, Aggidatta wondered as to who had called him by name, since there was no one in the world who could address him thus. In a fit of pique, he gave a sharp reply: “Who is that calling me by my name?” Ven. Mahā Moggallāna answered: “It’s me, Brahmin Aggidatta.” – “What do you want to say?” responded Aggidatta. When Ven. Mahā Moggallāna made the polite reply: “I wish you could show me a place where I could spend a night,” Aggidatta said curtly: “There is no place for you; each room has its own occupant.”
Ven. Mahā Moggallāna then replied: “Aggidatta, it is natural that men come to the abode of men, bullocks to the abodes of bullocks, and recluses to the abode of recluses. Please do not talk to me like that, do allot a lodging for me to spend the night.” The recluse
Knowing the state of his mind, Ven. Mahā Moggallāna said: “Aggidatta, don’t be angry with me, just point out a place for me.” Aggidatta gave the terse reply: “There is no place for you around here.” Indicating the pile of sand with his finger, Mahā Moggallāna enquired with patience: “Who lives at that pile of sand?” – “A dragon king,” was the reply. “Then allot it to me,” insisted Ven. Mahā Moggallāna. The recluse made the cautious reply: “I dare not allot it to you. The dragon king is of a violent, terrible nature.” Mahā Moggallāna replied: “Let it be, never mind about it. You just allot it to me.” – “If so, you better judge for yourself whether the place is suitable for occupation or not,” retorted Aggidatta.
Then Ven. Mahā Moggallāna went towards the pile of sand and when the dragon King Ahichatta caught sight of him, he thought to himself: “This recluse does not seem to see my presence here. I will dispose of him by exhaling fumes.” With this thought, the dragon king started emitting dense clouds of noxious vapour. Ven. Mahā Moggallāna considered: “This dragon king has overestimated himself, thinking no one else can send out fumes.” Therefore, he also started exhaling wave after wave of vapour, which, together with that emitted by the dragon king, rose higher and higher up to the realm of the Brahmas. The voluminous fumes exhaled by both of them caused great suffering to the dragon king while Ven. Mahā Moggallāna remained unscathed.
Suffering from the effects of the fumes, the Nāga king became so furious that he sent out a continuous stream of blazing flames. By developing the fourth absorption (rūpāvacara-kriya-jhāna) with a fire-device as its object, Mahā Moggallāna also sent out, in competition, more violent flames. The blazing fires produced by both of them went up as far as the Brahma realm; but none of them caused any harm to Ven. Mahā Moggallāna while the Nāga king was subjected to great suffering. His whole body appeared as though it were consumed in a blazing fire. At the sight of the massive conflagration, the recluse teacher, Aggidatta, and his disciples wrongly concluded: “The Nāga king had set the recluse ablaze; he has been destroyed completely, for not listening to our advice. It serves him right.”
Having overcome the Nāga king by subduing its haughtiness, Ven. Mahā Moggallāna sat on the pile of sand, while the Nāga king kept itself coiled around the sand-pile, with its hood spread over him like a terraced chamber crowned with a fine pinnacle.
To make immediate enquiries as to the fate of the recluse, the recluses went to the scene of recent combat and saw Ven. Mahā Moggallāna sitting becomingly on the peak of the sand-pile. They could not help but pay respects to him with their clasped hands, speaking highly of him in many ways, and they asked him: “Recluse, have you not suffered anything at the hands of the Nāga king?” Then Ven. Mahā Moggallāna replied: “Don’t you see the Nāga standing nearby with its hood spread like a white umbrella over me?” The recluses uttered in amazement: “Friends, this is a wonderful feat worthy of cheers by the snapping of the fingers! The recluse has subdued a powerful Nāga such as this. It is marvellous indeed!” They then rallied round Ven. Mahā Moggallāna in a group.
At that moment the Buddha arrived and Ven. Mahā Moggallāna rose from his seat and made obeisance to him. The recluses asked him: “Is this recluse more powerful than yourself?” – “This great recluse is replete with six glories; he is my master, I am merely his disciple,” was the reply.
The Buddha took his seat on the pile of sand. The recluses went round and with clasped hands raised, spoke in high praise of the Buddha: “The recluse who subdued the Nāga king is but a disciple, one wonders how mighty his master might be.” The Buddha then called Aggidatta and asked him: “What kind of instructions do you give to your recluses and lay
Aggidatta gave his reply: “Exalted Buddha, I gave this instruction to them: ‘Disciples, go to the hills for refuge, go to the jungles for refuge, go to the parks for refuge, go to the trees for refuge. If you take refuge in the hills, the jungles, the parks and under the trees, you will be free from all kinds of suffering.”
On hearing this answer, the Buddha said: “Aggidatta, one who takes refuge in the mountains, forests, gardens and trees cannot escape from suffering; as a matter of fact, only one who takes refuge in the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Saṅgha can escape from the sufferings of the round of rebirths! The Buddha then expounded the true way of escape from suffering in five verses (Dhp 188-192): [The story comes from the commentary to these verses].
Bahuṁ ve saraṇaṁ yanti, pabbatāni vanāni ca,
ārāma-rukkha-cetyāni, manussā bhaya-tajjitā.
Aggidatta, people take refuge, through fright, in the mountains, such as Mount Isigili, Mount Vepulla, Mount Vebhāra, etc., or in the forest groves, such as the Great Wood, Gosiṅga, Sālavana, etc., or in the gardens and parks, such as the Veḷuvana, Jīvaka’s Mango Park, etc., and under the trees, such as at the Udena tree-temple, Gotama tree-temple, etc. All these are erroneously regarded as refuges and means of protection from dangers.
Netaṁ kho saraṇaṁ khemaṁ, netaṁ saraṇam-uttamaṁ,
netaṁ saraṇam-āgamma, sabba-dukkhā pamuccati.
Aggidatta, these mountains, forests, gardens or trees are not safe, harmless refuges, they do not constitute the best, the highest refuge. By taking refuge in these mountains, forests, gardens or trees one cannot gain release from the continuous cycle of suffering (dukkha).
Yo ca Buddhañ-ca Dhammañ-ca, Saṅghañ-ca saraṇaṁ gato,
cattāri ariya-saccāni, sammappaññāya passati.
Dukkhaṁ dukkha-samuppādaṁ, dukkhassa ca atikkamaṁ,
ariyaṁ caṭṭhaṅgikaṁ maggaṁ, dukkhūpasama-gāminaṁ.
Aggidatta, any person, whether lay or recluse, who takes refuge in the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Saṅgha as a safe haven, as a secure shelter with sincere, pure faith in the Three Treasures; with transcendental consciousness (lokuttara-saraṇa-gamana-cittuppāda); any person, whether lay or recluse, who realizes the path truly and rightly through insight path-knowledge (magga-ñāṇa), the four noble truths: the noble truth of suffering (dukkha), the noble truth of the origin of suffering, the noble truth of the cessation of suffering and the noble truth of the path leading to the cessation of suffering, that is, the eightfold noble truth of right view, right thought, etc.
Etaṁ kho saraṇaṁ khemaṁ, etaṁ saraṇam-uttamaṁ,
etaṁ saraṇam-āgamma, sabba-dukkhā pamuccati.
Aggidatta, only the refuge taken by such a person of noble disposition, with abounding faith in the Three Treasures is a safe and harmless refuge. Only the refuge taken by such a person of noble disposition, with abounding faith in the Three Treasures, constitutes the best, highest refuge. Only the refuge taken by such a person of noble disposition, with abounding faith in the Three Treasures, can bring about release from the continuous cycle of suffering (dukkha).
At that very moment, all the recluses, the leader and his followers instantly turned into full-fledged monks like senior monks (thera) of 60 years’ standing readily robed and equipped with the eight requisites, paying homage to the Buddha with great respect.
That day, when all the recluses became summoned monastics (ehi-bhikkhu), happened to be the occasion when the people from Aṅga, Magadha and Kuru congregated at the recluses’ place with offerings for their recluse teachers. When they saw the recluses assuming the form of monastics, they began to wonder: “How is it, is our teacher Aggidatta superior to the great ascetic Gotama, or is the great ascetic Gotama superior to our teacher?” Then they wrongly surmised that since the great recluse had come to the presence of their teacher, their teacher, Aggidatta, must be superior to the great recluse.
The Buddha knew what was in the minds of the people, and he told Aggidatta: “Dear son Aggidatta, you might yourself remove the doubts from the minds of your audience.” Aggidatta replied: “Most exalted Buddha, it has also been my intention to do so,” and so saying, he went up high into the air and descended therefrom seven times. And after that he stood paying respects to the Buddha, declaring: Satthā me, bhante, Bhagavā, sāvakoham-asmi, “you, the exalted Buddha, are my teacher; I am but a disciple of yours,” thus removing doubt being entertained by his followers.
The Story of the Naked Ascetic Jambuka
This discourse beginning with the words: Māse māse kusaggena (Dhp 70), was given by the Buddha while residing at the Veḷuvana monastery in Rājagaha in connection with the naked ascetic Jambuka (for the story see DhpA V.11).
Jambuka’s Demeritorious Deeds of the Past
During the time of Buddha Kassapa, a rich man of a village in the countryside built a monastery for a monk. He made regular offerings of food, robes, living quarters and medicine, which are the four requisites for monastics, to the resident monk. The resident monk made regular visits to the house of the rich man for his daily meal.
One day, an elderly monk who was an Arahat, going on alms round, arrived at the gate of the rich man. The rich man was very pleased with the deportment of the monk and so he invited him into the house and offered him food with profound respect and said: “Your Reverence, please accept this piece of cloth for use as a robe, after dyeing and stitching. Your hair is also long enough to be cut, I will bring a barber and a bedstead for you to the monastery.”
The resident monk saw the reverential way in which his supporter made his offering to the Arahat monk. He was instantly assailed by unwholesome thoughts of envy concerning the offerings gained by the Arahat monk (lābha-macchariya) and also his superior birth (kula-macchariya); and he was very worried, thinking to himself: “The rich man has shown more reverential attention to the monk whom he has just met, than to myself, even though I frequent his house regularly for meals.” He returned to the monastery in an angry mood.
The guest monastic, who was an Arahat, followed the resident monk to his monastery. He dyed and stitched the piece of cloth offered to him by the wealthy monastery supporter and sat down wearing it as a robe. The wealthy man arrived, bringing with him a barber who attended to the Arahat monk’s hair. The rich man prepared the bedstead he had brought with him, ready for use and invited the Arahat monk to take a rest on it. Then after inviting both monks for a meal on the morrow, he went back home.
The resident monk was so overcome by malice towards the guest monk that he went to the place where the Arahat monk was resting, and gave vent to his bitter feeling in very offensive words:
Look here visitor, it would be better for you to eat faeces than the food offered at the house of the rich man, the supporter of my monastery. It would be better for you to have your hair pulled out with the outer shells of a palmyra seed than cutting it with the knife of the barber brought by the rich man, the supporter of my monastery. It would be better for you to go about naked than wearing the robe offered by the rich man, the supporter of my monastery. It would be better for you to sleep on the ground than lying on the bed offered by the rich man, the supporter of my monastery.
The Arahat monk left the monastery early in the morning for a place where he could find peace and happiness, foregoing the invitation by the rich man for a meal, in order that nothing untoward might happen to the resident monk on account of him.
The resident monk attended quite early to all the routine works in the monastery, and when the time came for going on the alms round, he thought: “The lazy visitor is still asleep. I might strike the bell to wake him up. But feeling uneasy that the visitor would actually get up on hearing the sound of the bell, he just touched the bell with his finger nails and made off for the village to receive alms food. After having made magnificent arrangements for a meal offering, the rich monastery supporter was waiting for the arrival of his two invited monks. On seeing the resident monk coming alone, he asked: “Venerable sir, where is the guest monk?” The envious resident monk replied: “Don’t you talk about him, supporter of the monastery! Your monk went into his room to sleep since you left the monastery last evening and did not wake up while I had the monastery compound swept, and the pots filled with water; nor did he hear the sound of the bell when I struck it as the time came for alms round.”
The rich supporter thought to himself: “It is absurd that such an exalted personage with such commendable deportment should have slept for such a long time. This resident monk, through jealousy on seeing me showing great respect and courtesy to the visiting monk, must have spoken some reproachful words to him.” Having thus surmised correctly, being wise and intelligent, he kept his thoughts to himself and made his offering of a meal respectfully to the monk. After the meal was over, he took the empty bowl of the resident monk, had it washed carefully and filled it with delicious food. He then handed the bowl back to the resident monk, with the request: “Venerable sir, please be so kind as to give this food to the guest monk when you meet him.”
While going back to the monastery with food for the Arahat monk, the envious resident monastic had this wrong thought: “The indolent visitor would stay on in the monastery if he were to enjoy delicious food such as these,” so he threw away the bowlful of food offered by the rich monastery supporter. On arrival at the place occupied by the visiting monk, he looked for him, but the Arahat monk could not be found.
The evil deed of this envious monk against the Arahat monk, the destruction of the food offered to the Arahat, was so demeritorious that its ill-effects outweighed the merits accruing from 20,000 years of living a holy life as a monk. Consequently, after his death he was reborn in the lowest plane of woe (mahā-avīci) to undergo intense suffering for the duration of the incalculably long interval between the disappearance of Buddha Kassapa and the appearance of Buddha Gotama. After such suffering, he was born in a household,
Jambuka in the Present Life
He was named Jambuka by his parents. He did not wish to sleep in a bed ever since he could walk about; and instead of taking ordinary food, he ate his own excrement. His parents and relatives at first thought that he took up these habits through youthful ignorance and tried to help him mend his ways, taking pains to feed him and clean his body. But even when he had grown up, he did not wish to wear cloths; he walked about naked, slept on the ground and ate his own filth.
Jambuka’s parents came to realize in due course that he was not fit to live in a family of good birth like their own, as he had no sense of shame and should be in the company of the Ājīvakas, a heretical sect. So they took him to the monastery of the Ājīvakas and entrusted him to their care.
The Ājīvakas then ordained him as a novice in their sect and the following is an account of how it was carried out: He was placed in a pit that was deep as far as his neck; wooden planks were placed covering the hole and resting upon his shoulders so that he might not struggle his way out. Sitting on the planks, the Ājīvakas pulled out the hair from the head of Jambuka. This was how the Ājīvakas initiated a lad as a novice. Then his parents left after inviting the Ājīvakas for the next day’s meal at their home.
The following day, the Ājīvakas said to Jambuka: “Come along, let’s go to the village.” He replied: “You better go and I will remain in the monastery.” After several vain attempts to persuade him to follow, they left him all alone and went into the village. Once he knew that they were gone, he took off the wooden covering of the latrine and went into the pit, picked up the filth with his two hands and helped himself to his heart’s content.
The Ājīvakas, being unaware of the truth, sent food to him from the village. But he was not interested in it and rejected it, and in spite of persuasive advice given by the Ājīvakas, his reply was: “I don’t want this, I have enough food for myself.” When he was asked: “From where did you receive it?” he replied: “From within the precincts of the monastery.” The second, the third and the fourth days passed in the same manner, Jambuka refusing the invitation to go out for food but choose to stay alone in the monastery.
The Ājīvakas began to wonder what Jambuka was up to: “This Jambuka refuses every day to go into the village, rejects the food that was sent to him, saying, he gets the food for himself from within the precincts of the monastery. What is he up to? We will have to investigate.” They then decided to leave behind one or two of the brethren to keep a watchful eye on Jambuka’s activities, while they went to the village. Those charged with the responsibility of investigation, pretended to go along with the group, but remained behind under cover to watch Jambuka. Thinking that all the Ājīvakas had left for the village, Jambuka went down the latrine pit as on the previous days and ate the faeces.
Jambuka was caught red-handed by the spies and the matter was reported to their elders. The elders, on hearing the report murmured: “Jambuka’s action is grievous. Should the disciples of ascetic Gotama come to know of this affair, they will surely decry us as a wandering tribe of filth eaters, which will be much to the detriment of our dignity. He is not fit that he remain with us any longer.” So saying they unanimously expelled him from their sect.
When he was expelled by the Ājīvakas, Jambuka went to stay near a huge stone slab which was close to a spot used by the citizens of Rājagaha as a public lavatory. There was
Those who came to answer the call of nature, on seeing him, approached him and asked: “Venerable sir, why are you standing like this with your mouth open?” – “I live on air, there is no food for me other than air,” he replied boastfully. People asked: “Venerable sir, why do you stand on one leg only, with one leg rested on the knee of the other one?” – “I am a person engaged in rigorous austerity practices. When I stand with both my legs touching the ground, the earth cannot withstand my glories and attributes and trembles violently; that is why I stand in this posture. In truth it is because of the earthquakes. I have got to stand on one leg night and day, without sitting down, without sleeping,” replied Jambuka with an air of ostentation.
It is a general fact that people accept readily what others say; only a few take the trouble to consider whether there is element of truth or not. So they said in admiration: “Marvellous indeed it is! There are such personalities in the world who undertake such severe practices. We have never before seen such personalities having such rigorous practices.” A great number of people from the Aṅga and Magadha countries, agitated and excited by hearing the news of Jambuka’s austerities, came together with offerings for him and paid homage to him every month.
Jambuka rejected delicious and wholesome food offered by people, maintaining: “I live on air only, I do not take any other food. If I do take any other thing than air, it means a breach of my practice.” People beseeched him, repeatedly saying: “Venerable sir, may you not deny us this opportunity to gain merit; only if a personality such as yours, well advanced in austerity practices, would accept our offer of alms food, will our prosperity and happiness grow and last long.” Jambuka was not interested in any food but only excrement, but pressed by earnest requests of the people, he was obliged to taste such food as butter and molasses the people fetched, picking them up with the tip of a blade of grass, just to give them satisfaction. Then he dismissed them, saying: “Go now; this much will go far to do a great deal of good for you.”
Thus Jambuka had to pay for his offences against an Arahat by suffering for 55 years in these four ways: he could not put on any clothes; he ate nothing except faeces; he had to pull out his hair by using palmyra seed shell; and he slept on the ground.
Emancipation of the Naked Ascetic Jambuka
It is the usual practice of Perfectly Self-Awakened Buddhas to survey the whole world at early dawn, every day, to see who are ready for liberation from the cycle of suffering. Thus, early one morning, the omniscient Buddha, on surveying the world, perceived the person of Jambuka in his mind’s eye. Upon further investigation, he discovered that Jambuka had already accumulated meritorious deeds which would serve as sufficing conditions for his attainment of the Arahat fruition (Arahatta-phala), complete with the fourfold analytical knowledge (paṭisambhidā-ñāṇa). He also came to know that he would have to teach a verse to the naked ascetic Jambuka, and that this teaching will also bring about the realisation of the four noble truths by 80,000 sentient beings who will thus gain emancipation. “Because of this person Jambuka, thousands of people will come to achieve
Thus, after going round Rājagaha for alms food, he informed Ven. Ānanda: “My dear son, Ānanda, I will be going to see Jambuka.” – “Exalted Buddha, is it that you are going there alone,” asked Ānanda. “That’s right, Ānanda. I will go alone,” replied the Buddha and went to the place of Jambuka in the evening of that day.
The Devas considered: “The exalted Buddha is visiting the naked ascetic Jambuka this evening; but that naked ascetic’s abode is the great stone slab which is abominably filthy and smelly with an accumulation of excrement, urine and discarded twigs used as tooth cleaners. We should wash up the loathesome mess by a downpour of rain.” Thus they caused, by means of their supernatural power, a falling at that very instant of a torrential rain, which washed away all the filth and dirt from the stone slab, making it look spick and span. Then the Devas caused the falling of flowers of the five colours on the stone slab.
On arrival at Jambuka’s place in the evening, the Buddha called out the naked ascetic by his name, who felt annoyed being discourteously addressed by name by an unknown person who, he thought, must be a lowly person. He retorted angrily: “Who is that calling me by my name?” the Buddha replied: “I am a noble recluse.” Jambuka asked then: “What is that you want here?” When the Buddha said: “I wish you would allot me a place to stay for one night.” Jambuka replied bluntly: “There is no place for you in this place.” But the Buddha insisted: “Jambuka, please do not say this; do allot me a place to stay for one night. It is only natural that a recluse seeks the help of a recluse, men expect help of men and beasts expect help of their own kind.” Whereupon the naked ascetic asked: “Are you, indeed, a recluse?” – “Yes, I am a noble recluse,” answered the Buddha. Jambuka then queried: “If you are a recluse, where are the equipment of a recluse, such as gourd, ladle for stirring fire, sacrificial threads?” the Buddha replied: “I possess the equipment of a recluse you ask about; but thinking it is cumbersome to carry them separately while wandering around, I take them along only inside me.” Jambuka was much annoyed and reproached the Buddha: “Being a recluse, how could you go wandering about without the necessary equipment of a recluse?” The Buddha made a gentle reply: “Jambuka, let that be! Don’t be angry with me. Just point out a place for me.” But Jambuka gave the terse reply: “There is no place for you around here.”
There was a small valley close by Jambuka’s place and the Buddha asked: “Who stays there?” – “No one,” replied Jambuka. “If so, I want that place allotted to me,” said the Buddha. Whereupon, Jambuka made a reply: “It is up to you to judge whether it is suitable or not,” implying that he had no objection for the occupation of the place but took no responsibility whatsoever.
The Buddha placed a small mattress at a spot in the valley and sat upon it. At the first watch of the night, the Four Great Kings came, illuminating the four points of the compass and waited upon the Buddha. When Jambuka saw the illumination he wondered what it could be. At the second watch of the night, Sakka, the Lord of the Devas, came to attend upon the Buddha and Jambuka remained puzzled as before. At the last watch of the night, when Mahā Brahma, who had the power of lighting one world with one finger of his, two worlds with two fingers, ten worlds with ten fingers, came to wait upon the Buddha, illuminating the whole forest, Jambuka pondered, as before: “Now, what could that illumination be!”
When the morning came, Jambuka approached the Buddha and after courteous exchange of greetings, sat down at an appropriate place and addressed him: “Great recluse, who were those that came to you, in the first watch of the night, lighting up the four points of the compass?” –“Jambuka, they were the Four Great Kings,” he replied. “Why did they come?” asked Jambuka. “They came to pay homage and wait upon me,” was the reply. Jambuka asked again: “Great recluse, how is that? Are you superior to them?” “Yes, Jambuka, that’s right, I am superior to them,” replied the Buddha.
The naked ascetic Jambuka asked again: “Great recluse, who was the one that arrived in the middle watch of the night?” – “He was Sakka, the Lord of the Devas,” replied the Buddha.
Jambuka asked the Buddha: “Great recluse, who was he that came in the last watch of the night, flooding the whole forest with his bodily radiance?” – “Jambuka, the one who came in the last watch of the night was none other than Mahā Brahma whose name is often invoked by Brahmins and others saying: ‘I worship the Mahā Brahma,’ when they suddenly sneeze or loose balance and totter.” Jambuka asked again: “Great recluse, how is that? Are you superior to Mahā Brahma too?” – “Yes, Jambuka, I am beyond the king of the Brahmas, superior to Mahā Brahma as well.”
Then the ascetic Jambuka made his usual boastful remark: “Great recluse, you are worthy of admiration indeed, by the snapping of fingers. None of those persons have ever come to pay homage to me at this place where I have been practising austerities for 55 years. True! For the last 55 years I have been sustaining myself only on air; and over all those years, these Devas, Sakka and Brahmas have never approached and paid homage to me.”
Whereupon, the Buddha gave Jambuka a very plain talk: “Jambuka, you, who have been cheating persons of poor intelligence, think of playing the same game with me! Have you not been eating filth for the past 55 years, sleeping on the bare ground, wandering round naked, extracting hair by means of a shell of palmyra seed? And yet you have been deceiving all the people, telling them: ‘I only live on air, standing on one leg without sitting down and sleeping,’ and now you wish to play the same trick on a Fully Awakened Buddha like me! Jambuka, because you professed this vile, base, heretical view you have to live on filth, sleep on bare ground, roam about naked, extract hair with the shell of a palmyra fruit seed for all these years, experiencing intense suffering; and yet you are still holding this wretched, base, heretical view.”
Then Jambuka asked the Buddha: “Great recluse, what kind of unwholesome deeds have I committed?” Whereupon, the Buddha explained to him extensively the various misdeeds he had done in the past. While the Buddha was giving this discourse, Jambuka was assailed by remorse, conscience and concern about the consequences of his past misdeeds; he was shaken so much that he squatted down to conceal the private parts of his body.
The Buddha threw a bathing robe for him to cover himself. Jambuka put on the robe and sat down at a suitable distance paying respects to him. Then the Buddha expounded a graduated discourse touching on points connected with generosity (dāna-kathā), moralality (sīla-kathā), etc., and finally the four noble truths. At the end of the discourse, Jambuka became an Arahat, complete with the four analytical knowledges (paṭisambhidā-ñāṇa). He stood up from his seat and worshipping the Buddha, made a request for the going forth as a novice and higher ordination as a monastic.
Thus, the ill-effects of the unwholesome deeds which he had committed in the past had ceased. To elaborate: For his offence against an Arahat during Buddha Kassapa’s Dispensation, as stated above, he had suffered intensely, being burnt and incinerated in the lowest hell of Avīci for a long duration of time, long enough for the earth to rise to a height of one league and three miles. And after that, for the amount of retribution still outstanding against him, he had to make his expiation by going through 55 years of wretched, abominable, inhuman life. Having thus paid off the debts of evil deeds, the consequences of his past misdeeds had become exhausted.
But his accumulation of merit, which he had earned by observance of moral precepts as a monastic for 20,000 years, still remained undisturbed by his evil deeds.
Therefore, when Jambuka requested for initiation and ordination, the Buddha stretched
On that very day when Jambuka became an Arahat, people from Aṅga and Magadha visited him with offerings to pay homage. When they saw the Buddha, and began to wonder: “How is that? Is our teacher Jambuka superior to the great ascetic Gotama or is the great ascetic Gotama superior to our teacher Jambuka?” Then they wrongly surmised that since the great recluse had come to their teacher, their teacher Jambuka must be superior to the ascetic Gotama.
The Buddha knew what was in the minds of the people, and he told Jambuka: “Dear son Jambuka, you might remove the doubt yourself from the minds of your followers.” Jambuka replied: “Most exalted Buddha, it has also been my intention to do so,” and so saying, he entered into the fourth absorption (jhāna). Then rising up from his seat, he went up into the air to the height of a palm tree from where he addressed the Buddha: “Exalted Buddha, you, the exalted Buddha, are my teacher, I am but a disciple of yours.” Then he came down to earth and after paying homage to the Buddha, rose up in the air again. He repeated the same performance seven times, going up higher and higher, to the height of two palm trees, three palm trees, etc., up to the height of seven palm trees. In this manner, he had made it very clear to the assembled crowd that he was just a disciple of the Buddha. On seeing these strange phenomena, people were struck with wonder and said: “Buddhas are worthy of admiration by the snapping of fingers; they are glorious and there is no equal to them.”
The Buddha, being desirous of holding a discussion with the masses on Dhamma subjects addressed them: “Lay devotees, Jambuka has lived here for the last 55 years telling you ostentatiously: ‘I have been exercising self-denial, eating only what is picked by the tip of a blade of grass out of the whole lot of offering you have brought.’ Supposing, he continued on with this practice of self-denial till it reached 100 years, and a certain amount of merit accrued on that score. Such a measure of merit to his credit would not be worth even 1/256th part of the merit he would earn by refusing to take any food now as a noble one (ariya), through having some doubt whether the food and the time it is offered is allowable or not allowable.”
Then the Buddha expounded the following Dhamma verse which was pertinent to what he had been telling the people (Dhp 70):
Māse māse kusaggena, bālo bhuñjeyya bhojanaṁ,
na so saṅkhāta-dhammānaṁ, kalaṁ agghati soḷasiṁ.
Even though, month after month the fool who does not know the four noble truths, bent on living in austerity, takes his food sparingly by picking it up on the tip of a blade of grass for 100 years; he is not even worth one part out of 256 of a noble one (ariya) who has comprehended the four noble truths.
The verse was expounded with reference to a particular individual, namely, Jambuka. When considered in its generic sense: There is the volition (cetanā), which arises when an ignorant heretical recluse practises self-sacrifice for as long as 100 years; there is the volition (cetanā), which arises when a noble one (ariya) who comprehends the four noble truths, refuses an offer of food through having some doubt whether the food and the time it is offered is allowable or not allowable.
Of the two types of volitions (cetanā) mentioned above, the volitions accumulated by the heretical recluse for as long as 100 years is not worth 1/256th part of the volition that arose
To explain further, the amount of merit accruing from the volition occasioned by mere doubt on the part of a noble one (ariya) as to the kind of food and the time it is offered, entailing the loss of a meal for him, is 256 times greater than the sum of merit gained by a heretical recluse through his faulty practice of self-denial for 100 years.
At the close of the discourse, 84,000 sentient beings gained release from the cycle of suffering through realization of the four noble truths.