34b: The 18th Year (Delaying)
The Weaver’s Daughter
[The following is based on Dhp 174 and its commentary.]
Having emancipated a large number of deserving people according to their respective dispositions, beginning with the poor man of Āḷavī who searched for his lost bullock, the Buddha observed the eighteenth Rains Retreat (Vassa) on a hill near Cāliya, administering the cool water of the Dhamma to those who sought to be emancipated.
At the close of the eighteenth Rains Retreat (Vassa) on the Cāliya Hill, the Buddha journeyed again from place to place and arrived in Sāvatthī and stayed at Jetavana.
Three years prior to the Buddha’s stay at Jetavana, at the end of the 18th Rains Retreat, the Buddha went to Āḷavī city and the citizens invited him and gave a great alms giving. After finishing the meal, the Buddha gave a Dhamma talk in appreciation of the people’s alms giving. The talk which included such exhortations as follows: “Dear supporters, you men and women! Meditate on death thus: ‘My life is not lasting; death will certainly occur to me. It is certain that I shall die. My life will end in death; life is not permanent, but death is!’ The benefits of meditation on death are these: On seeing a snake, a man without a stick is frightened, like him, those who have not meditated on death, die making terrible sounds that are caused by fear. A man with a stick, however, is not frightened but remains calm at the sight of a snake, for he can overpower the snake and catch it by means of his stick and send it away. In the same way, those, who are accomplished in meditation on death, are not frightened at their last moment when death is drawing near but pass away without fear and courageously. Therefore, you should meditate on death as has been said above.”
While other people were minding their own business after hearing the Buddha’s talk, a sixteen-year old daughter of a weaver gave good heed to it thus: “Oh, the word of Buddhas is indeed wonderful! I should meditate on death!” So she engaged herself in that meditation day and night. From the city of Āḷavī, the Buddha returned to Jetavana. The girl for her part continuously meditated for three full years.
After three years, the Buddha, while sojourning now at Jetavana, surveyed the world of sentient beings one morning and saw that very daughter of a weaver in his vision. When he
Foreseeing this, the Buddha, in the company of 500 monks, left Jetavana for Āḷavī and arrived at the monastery, named Aggāḷava. Hearing the news of the Buddha’s arrival, the people of Āḷavī went, in happy mood, to the Aggāḷava monastery and invited the Saṅgha with the Buddha as its head for a meal.
The weaver’s daughter also learned of the Buddha’s arrival and became joyous at the thought: “My spiritual father and teacher, the Buddha of the Gotama clan, whose beautiful face may be likened to a full moon, has arrived,” and thought further as follows: “Three years ago I saw the golden-complexioned Buddha. Now I have another opportunity to view the Buddha’s body in the brightness of gold and to listen to his sweet and nourishing talk on Dhamma.”
At that time, the girl’s father was about to go to the weaving shed; so he asked his daughter before he went: “Dear, I have fixed some person’s fabric on the loom. It remains unfinished with only about a hand span left unwoven. I will finish it today. Wind the woof quickly and bring it to me.”
The girl was now in a dilemma, thinking: “I am desirous of listening to the Fortunate One’s teaching. Father has also urgently asked me to do something else. What should I do now? Should I listen to the Fortunate One’s discourse first, or should I wind the woof and hand it to father first?” Then she decided thus: “If I fail to send the woof, father will hit me or beat me. Therefore only after winding the woof shall I hear the Dhamma.” So sitting on a small stool she wound the woof.
The citizens of Āḷavī, after serving the Buddha with a meal, were holding the bowls of dedication water to hear the Buddha’s teaching in appreciation of their good deeds. The Buddha, however, kept silent, for he pondered: “For the sake of this girl, a weaver’s daughter, I have travelled this journey of 30 leagues. The girl has not got a chance to hear me. Only when she does get a chance to listen to my talk, shall I give a discourse of appreciation.”
While the Buddha was remaining silent no one whosoever in the world of sentient beings dared to ask him to speak.
The girl wound the woof, put it in a basket, and, on her way to her father, she stood at the edge of the audience. The Buddha too looked at the girl, stretching his neck. From the way the Buddha glanced at her she knew: “The Fortunate One wants me to go closer to him, for while sitting amidst such a great assembly he looks directly at me.”
Herein it may be asked: “Why did the Buddha stretch his neck and look at her?” Answer: For it occurred to the Buddha thus: “If she goes to her father without listening to my discourse even at the edge of the assembly, she will die a worldling (puthujjana) and her destiny after her death will not be safe. But if she goes after coming to me and listening to my discourse her destiny will be a safe one, for she will attain Stream-entry (Sotāpatti-phala) and will be reborn in a divine mansion in Tusita. Besides, there would be no escape for her from death on that very day. That was why the Buddha stretched out his neck and looked at the girl.
After taking the cue from the Buddha, and approaching the Buddha by passing through his six radiant lights, she paid homage and stood at a proper place. The following questions and answers between the Buddha and the girl then took place:
Buddha: “Where did you come from, young lady?”
Young lady: “I do not know, exalted Buddha.”
Buddha: “Where are you going?”
Young lady: “I do not know, exalted Buddha.”
Buddha: “Do you not know, young lady?”
Young lady: “I do, exalted Buddha.”
Buddha: “Do you know, young lady?”
Young lady: “I do not, exalted Buddha.”
In this way the Buddha asked the girl four questions. Realising what was meant by the Buddha, the girl gave her answers which had a profound significance.
Those people, who did not understand the significance, reproached her, saying: “Behold this girl, friends! In her conversation with the Buddha she spoke at random, she spoke just nonsense. When asked: ‘Where did you come from?’ she should have answered: ‘I came from the weaver’s home,’ when asked: ‘Where are you going?’ she should have answered: ‘To the weaver’s work-shop.’ ”
The Buddha, after silencing the people, asked the girl: “Young lady, when I asked you: ‘Where did you come from?’ Why did you say you do not know?”
Then the girl answered: “Exalted Buddha, you knew, of course, that I came from the weaver’s home. Indeed, by: ‘Where did you come from?’ You meant to say from which existence did I come to this weaver’s daughter’s existence. I do not know from which existence I came, hence my answer: I do not know.”
The Buddha then expressed his appreciation for the first time, saying, “Well said, well said! Young lady you have answered the question raised by me.”
He asked another question: “Young lady, when I asked you: ‘Where are you going?’ Why did you say you did not know?”
The girl answered: “Exalted Buddha, you knew, of course, that I am going to the weaver’s work-shop with the woof basket in my hand. Indeed, by asking: ‘Where are you going?’ You meant to say, to which existence I was going after this human existence. To which existence I am going I do not know. Hence my answer: ‘I do not know.’ ”
The Buddha then expressed his appreciation for the second time, saying: “You have answered the question raised by me.”
He asked still another question: “Young lady, when I asked you: ‘Do you not know?’ Why did you say you did?”
The girl answered: “Exalted Buddha, I know I am bound to die. Hence my answer: I know.”
The Buddha then expressed his appreciation for the third time, saying: “You have answered the question raised by me.”
He asked still another question: “Even then, young lady, when I asked you: ‘Do you know?’ Why did you say you do not?”
The girl answered: “Exalted Buddha, I do know that I am bound to die. I, however, do not know what time will I die, whether at night, during day time, in the morning, or when. Hence my answer: ‘I do not know.’ ”
The Buddha then expressed his appreciation for the fourth time, saying: “You have answered the questions raised by me.”
Then the Buddha addressed the audience: “You do not know even this much of the significance in the answers given by this girl. You reproach her, and that is all you can do. Verily those who lack the eye of wisdom are blind despite their organic eyes. Only those who have the eye of wisdom have sight.” After that the Buddha spoke this Dhamma-verse (Dhp 174):
Andha-bhūto ayaṁ loko,
sakuṇo jālam-uttova, appo saggāya gacchati.
My virtuous audience! This world composed of numerous worldly people who do not see is like the blind, for they lack the eye of wisdom. In this multitude of countless worldly people only a few highly intelligent ones can reflect and discern the nature of the conditioned mind and matter in the light of the three characteristics. Just as the quails that escape from the bird-catcher’s net are of inconsiderable number, even so only a small number of sharp, intelligent persons attain the abode of humans and Devas and the bliss of Nibbāna.
At the end of the teaching, the weaver’s daughter was established in the state of Stream-entry (Sotāpatti-phala). The teaching was also beneficial to many other people.
The girl took the woof-basket and proceeded to her father, who was then dozing while sitting at the loom. When the daughter pushed and moved the basket casually it hit the end of the shuttle and dropped making a sound.
Her father, the weaver, woke up from dozing and pulled the shuttle by force of habit. Because of its excessive speedy motion the end of the shuttle struck the girl right in the chest. The girl died on the spot and was reborn in the Tusita Deva-abode.
When the weaver looked at his daughter, he saw her lying dead with her body stained with blood all over. The weaver was then filled with grief. Thereafter, he came to his senses and thought: “There is no one other than the Buddha who can extinguish my grief.” So thinking he went to the Buddha, most painfully weeping and after relating the story, said: “Exalted Buddha, kindly try to ease my lamentation.”
The Buddha caused some relief to the weaver and said: “Do not be sad, devotee. The volume of the tears that you have shed on the occasions of your daughter’s death in the past while in this Saṁsāra of unknown beginning is far greater than the volume of the waters of the four great oceans.” Having said this, the Buddha delivered a discourse on the beginningless round of births and deaths (anamataggiya-saṁsāra, see SN 15). Now with little sorrow, the weaver begged the Buddha to ordain him, and after becoming a monastic he put effort in meditation and soon became an Arahat.
A Male Lay Devotee
[The following is based on Dhp 203 and its commentary.]
Having spent the seventeenth Rains Retreat (Vassa) at Veḷuvana in Rājagaha and converted those humans, Devas and Brahmas worthy of conversion through various discourses, including with the Discourse about Victory (Vijaya-sutta, Snp 1.10) as has been told above, the Buddha set out on a journey when the Rains Retreat was over and eventually arrived in Sāvatthī and took up residence at Jetavana.
Then one day, while staying in the fragrant chamber of Jetavana, he surveyed the world of beings at daybreak and saw a poor man of Āḷavī city. Knowing of his past merit that would lead him to the attainment of Stream-entry (Sotāpatti), the Buddha went to Āḷavī
When the poor man learned of the arrival of the Buddha, he felt happy thinking: “I will have a chance to listen to a discourse in his presence.” Then an incident took place on the day the Buddha was about to enter the city. A bullock, belonging to the poor man, ran away as the rope tied to it broke.
The poor man then thought: “What shall I do? Shall I first search for the bullock or first listen to the discourse?” And he decided to search for the bullock first and listen to the Buddha’s discourse later, without worry. So he left home in search of the lost bullock.
The Āḷavī citizens offered seats to the Saṅgha led by the Buddha and served them with food and made arrangements for the Buddha’s discourse in appreciation of the meal. “For the poor man, I have taken this journey of 30 leagues,” reflected the Buddha, “he has now entered the forest to look for the lost bullock. I shall give a Dhamma talk only when he comes.” With that idea he remained silent.
It was late in the morning when the poor man found his bullock and put it into the herd. Then he thought: “At this hour I have no chance to give my service in any form. Yet, I will just pay my respects to the Buddha.” Though he was severely oppressed by hunger, he did not think of going home but rushed to the Buddha, did obeisance to him and stood at an appropriate place.
When the man was standing thus, the Buddha asked the head worker at the alms giving: “Supporter, is there any surplus food after feeding the Saṅgha?” – “Yes, exalted Buddha,” answered the head worker, “there is a full meal.” The Buddha then ordered him to feed the poor man.
The head worker let the man sit at the very place where the Buddha requested and served him well with gruel, hard and soft food. Having eaten with relish, the man washed his mouth thoroughly.
Nowhere else in the Three Baskets is the Buddha found to have himself asked somebody to feed a householder.
After eating the food with relish to his satisfaction, the poor man’s mind became calm with one-pointedness. Then the Buddha taught him in serial order with talk on generosity (dāna-kathā), talk on morality (sīla-kathā), talk on celestial abodes (sagga-kathā), talk on the faults of sensual pleasures (kammānaṁ ādinava-kathā), talk on the advantages of renunciation (nekkhamme ānisaṁsa-kathā) and finally he taught the four truths. At the end of the teaching, having given appreciation of the alms giving, the Buddha rose and departed. The people saw him to the monastery and went back to Āḷavī.
While the monks were going along with their master, they sarcastically talked among themselves: “Friends, look at what the master did. Absolutely nowhere else did he ask to arrange for feeding a layman! But today, just on seeing a poor man, he himself has arranged to get the gruel and other foods set for him.” The Buddha turned back and asked what they were talking about. When he knew what it was about, the Buddha said: “Yes, you are right! Monks, I took this tedious journey of 30 leagues just because I saw his past merit had potential enough to lead him, the poor lay devotee, to the path and fruition of Stream-entry (Sotāpatti). He was very hungry. Since daybreak, he had been searching for his lost bullock by roaming about the forest region. If I had taught him without feeding him, he would not have been able to penetrate my teaching because of suffering from hunger. Having thus reflected, I asked for food for him in this manner. There is no ailment like hunger.” Then he uttered the following verse (Dhp 203):
Jighacchā-paramā rogā, saṅkhāra-paramā dukhā,
etaṁ ñatvā yathā-bhūtaṁ, Nibbānaṁ paramaṁ sukhaṁ.
My dear sons and monks! Hunger surpasses all oppressing and painful
The conditioning factors (saṅkhāra) of the five aggregates surpass all suffering. As long as these factors exist, suffering will not come to an end. Therefore, it means that of all suffering the conditioning factors of the five aggregates are the worst.
The unconditioned element, the ultimate Nibbāna, is the highest happiness. Happiness that is felt (vedayita-sukha) and liked by worldly people is enjoyable only when it exists. When it reaches the moment of destruction, when it is destroyed and gone, there is neither comfort nor enjoyment. The peace of Nibbāna never has a destructive nature but it remains peaceful forever; hence it is the best of all happinesses. Knowing this as it really is, the wise man realizes the happiness of Nibbāna.
By the end of the discourse numerous beings attained Stream-entry (Sotāpatti-phala) and other fruitions.