I
decided to carry a few stories concerning death to this chapter instead of
making the previous chapter too long. The following three stories were recorded
in the Tripitaka (the Buddhist scriptures) and therefore they were based on
real historical events which have been told and heard countless times among
devout Buddhists.
As
a female lay supporter during the Buddha's time, Visakha played a most
important role and did a great deal for Buddhism. There were a lot of stories
about her recorded in the Tripitaka. She became a Sotapanna or Stream-Enterer,
the first level of holiness, when she heard the teaching of the Buddha for the
first time. She came from a rich family, married into yet another rich family
and lived in a town called Savatthi, the capital of Kosala kingdom ruled by
King Pasenadi. Visakha adored and loved the Buddha so much that she spent all
her life looking after him and all his disciples by tending to all their needs
and requisites. She spent a great deal of money building a temple for the
Buddha and his Bhikkhus to stay in. It was a very well known temple called
Booparam. Being a Sotapanna, she could easily let go of matters concerning
wealth and material things. Once she visited the Buddha on her way back from a
wedding where she had worn jewels which were so expensive that only three women
at that time could have owned them. However, she thought that it was
inappropriate to go into the temple while she was fully dressed up. She decided
to take off all her jewellery, put it in a bag and asked her servant to look
after it. She then went to the Buddha's quarters and had a conversation with
him. The servant went with her too. When they left the temple, the servant
forgot to bring the bag of jewellery back with her. Pra Ananda, the Buddha's
personal attendant or secretary, found the bag. Once he had found out that it
belonged to Visakha, he hung it up on a tree until the bag was retrieved and
returned to the owner.
When
Visakha reached the gate of the temple, she asked for the jewellery back so
that she could put it back on. The maid then realised she had forgotten the
jewellery by the Buddha's quarters. Visakha told the maid to get the jewellery
back, but once she knew that Pra Ananda had touched her bag of jewellery, she
had so much respect for the venerable monk that she could not possibly wear
them again and wanted to offer them to Pra Ananda. Pra Ananda said that he had
no reason for wanting to keep this bag of jewellery. Visakha then decided to
sell the jewels to others for a much lower price than they were worth, but
people had too much respect for her so that no one dared to buy and use the
matchless jewellery worn by Visakha. Finally, Visakha had to buy her own
jewellery back for the full price and offered that money to the Buddha instead.
The Buddha told Visakha to use that money to build a monastery for the monks.
That temple was called Booparam, where the Buddha spent a great deal of time.
Although
Visakha could let go of her material valuables so easily, when it came down to
losing someone she loved very much, she found it very difficult to let go.
Visakha had a very big family.
Among
all her grandchildren, she was very fond of one granddaughter named Vanna. That
was because she knew how devoted her grandmother was towards the Buddha.
Whenever there was any special occasion such as alms offering to a big group of
the Sangha, Vanna was the key person in helping her grandmother to make sure
that everything went smoothly and took the hectic work off her hands. Visakha
knew that she could totally rely on Vanna. Sadly, Vanna was hit by serious
illness and died. According to the ancient Indian tradition, whenever anyone
died in the family, it was a custom for the elder relatives to soak themselves
in the river so that all the sin could be cleansed away. After Visakha
submerged herself in the river just by the temple where the Buddha was
residing, her fine clothes and hair were dripping wet. Visakha was struck down
by grief in losing her beloved granddaughter so she didn't want to go home and
get changed first; instead she went straight to see the Buddha. The Buddha
looked at the grief-stricken Visakha with kindness and said:
"Visakha, if all the
people in Savatthi were as good as Vanna your beloved granddaughter, would you
wish for them to be your children and grandchildren and would you love them all
the same?"
"If all the people in
Savatthi were as good as Vanna, I would, of course, like them to be my children
and I would love them all the same, my Lord," Visakha answered.
"Now, tell me Visakha,
how many people die each day in Savatthi?" asked the Buddha.
"Well, some days
there are about a hundred or so but other days there might be just nine or ten.
Nevertheless, there is at least one who dies each day." Visakha tried to
give the best answer.
"Now then
Visakha, if it is so, does it mean that you have to get soaked, wet and in
tears like this every day? There won't be any day that your clothes and hair
will be dry at all and so with your tears. Isn't it true?"
Visakha listened to
the simple logic that the Buddha gave her. She went silent for a while and
slowly nodded her head in terms of understanding the meaning of those simple
words. She dried her tears and said:
"It
is true, my lord. If I love all the people in Savatthi just like I love my
granddaughter, there will not be any day that I can stay dry, I would have to
soak myself in the river every day."
"Visakha, can you see that where
there is love, there is suffering, grief and sorrow when you lose your loved
ones. If you love a hundred people, your grief will mount up to a hundred-fold.
If you love ten people, your sorrow will mount up ten-fold accordingly. The
more people you love, the more grief and suffering you will have to bear when
you lose them. That's why I teach my disciples to go beyond love so that there
won't be any suffering to bear," the Buddha explained.
Visakha
was very impressed by the teaching of the Buddha and said: "I do not wish
to have a big family anymore." That simple logic helped her shift the
heavy weight of grief off her chest. She thanked and paid respect to the Buddha
and went home.
Pra
maha Katjayana was a Pra Arahant and one of the Buddha's disciples who had
helped to propagate Buddhism while the Buddha was still alive. Once he arrived
at a kingdom whose king was in deep sorrow because of losing his beloved wife.
The king previously had asked a sculptor to carve the image of his wife out of
fine marble and he spent days and nights by the lifeless statue. One of the
subjects had informed the king that the Buddha's disciple who was also a fully
enlightened one had come to town. The king was overjoyed and hoped right away
that the enlightened monk might be able to bring the life of his beloved wife
back. It is quite normal for people who are in great desperation to think that
miracles might happen to them.
Pra
maha Katjayana was brought to meet the king at the palace. The king was so
happy because his heart was filled with high hope. He told the worthy monk that
he would do anything at all to help the monk retrieve the life of his wife. Pra
maha Katjayana did not say much. He looked at the king and gently asked:
"Your
majesty, could you please go into your garden and kindly break off a branch
from that big tree for me."
Thinking
that the branch of a tree was part of the sacred ritual, the king quickly
rushed into his garden and broke a branch off the tree as requested. He came
back to the monk with his sparkling eyes and a smile on his face which had
vanished ever since his wife died. Pra maha Katjayana took the branch off the
king. He then looked attentively at the king who was waiting patiently for the
next move. Then, Pra maha Katjayana raised the branch up with both his hands
and offered it back to the king and said very calmly:
"Now, your majesty, please take this branch and put it back on the
tree."
The
king did not quite understand and said:
"But you can't do that. The branch has already been broken off.
There is no way I can put it back like before."
Then, Pra maha Katjayana kindly said to the king:
"Could this be the same answer for your dead wife, your
majesty?"
The
king looked at the branch in his hands and tried to digest the meaning of those
few simple words. Although the answer was not what he had anticipated, it
helped him to bring some sense back to his life. He nodded his head slowly
showing that he could understand what the monk had tried to tell him. He then
thanked the worthy monk and invited him to come back to the palace for his alms
on the next day before leaving town. Pra maha Katjayana took the opportunity to
teach the king and his subjects about the noble truth of suffering and how to
end the suffering. The king finally got over his grief and became a devout
Buddhist ever since. So did a great number of his subjects.
According
to the Hindu caste system, Kisa Gotami was born in a family of the lowest
caste. However, her beauty had led her to meet a man in a higher caste who fell
in love with her. He married her and Kisa Gotami was among a family who
constantly looked at her with disdain. Her fate changed for the better when she
gave birth to a baby boy. For the first time in her married life, since the
birth of her son, she felt happy in being accepted by her husband's family.
Unfortunately, her happiness did not last very long at all. Life is full of
surprises and some of them are very cruel. When the baby was only eight months
old, he died for some unknown reason. Kisa Gotami was devastated. Apart from
the pain that she had to bear in losing her first-born, she could not imagine
how she would be treated by her husband's family. In a state of shock, Kisa
Gotami could not accept that her baby had gone for good. She held her baby
tightly to her chest from the early morning and wailed uncontrollably. Later in
the morning, she left home and asked everyone she bumped into to help her bring
the life of her baby back. Some people looked at her with great sympathy but
some shook their heads, laughed and taunted her.
"You mad woman, your
baby is dead. How can you bring him back?"
Kisa Gotami finally met a
kind man who told her:
"You must go to
Veruvan monastery and ask to see the Buddha. He can help you."
They were the first
comforting words she had heard all morning since she ran out from home still
crushing her dead baby to her chest. She didn't waste any time and ran straight
to search for the Buddha. Once she had arrived, she placed her lifeless baby
right in front of the Buddha and begged him to help her.
The Buddha
kindly looked at the distraught young mother and said:
"Yes, of course, I can help you but you must do something for me
first. You must go to search for a handful of cabbage seeds."
The
Buddha had not really finished what he was going to say. Kisa Gotami quickly
got up, was ready to go and get some cabbage seeds with the hope that the
Buddha might want to make some kind of potion out of them. The Buddha then
quickly stopped her and said:
"Wait Kisa Gotami, wait, please listen to me carefully first. I
don't want just any cabbage seeds. You must go to find a household where no-one
has died in that family before. Only the cabbage seeds from such a family would
help you. Now, you can go, and bring your baby with you," the Buddha
explained.
The
mother's heart was filled with great hope. She quickly dried her tears, picked
her baby up and left the monastery. She then knocked on every household door
and asked for a handful of cabbage seeds. But when she asked them to confirm
whether anyone had died in the family before, she had to reluctantly return the
cabbage seeds with great disappointment. As the afternoon went on, Kisa Gotami
could not yet find a single family who never had anyone die before. They were
either grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters or sons and
daughters. She also found out that not only old people die but young ones even newborn
babies too can die all the same. She began to realise that it wasn't only her
who faced such a great loss in life. In fact, other people too were in the same
predicament as her and they had to bear the same kind of pain and grief no less
than her at all.
By
evening, the corpse of her baby began to smell because of the heat both from
the sun and her body. Only then did she notice the weight of the dead baby in
her arms. She sat down with exhaustion and placed the baby on the ground right
in front of her. She looked at her dead baby but this time from a much clearer
perspective. Her tears had dried up and she didn't feel like crying anymore.
She picked up her son again and walked towards the river where people were
cremating their dead relatives. She too joined in with the custom that had been
passed down for endless generations in India. While she was watching the fire
burning her baby's body, she was surprised that she had not realised this fact
of life any sooner.
That
night Kisa Gotami went back to the Buddha. The Buddha asked whether she had
found any cabbage seeds at all.
"There were plenty of
cabbage seeds around but there were none from a family where no one had died
before, my Lord," the young mother answered calmly.
The Buddha smiled a little
and said kindly:
"I assume that
you have learnt something about life then."
"I have indeed,
my Lord."
"Now, where did
you leave your baby then?" the Buddha asked with curiosity.
"I have already
cremated my baby by the river," she answered.
"What would you
like to do now then?" the Buddha asked, although he knew that this young
woman's karma was ripe enough to be enlightened.
Kisa Gotami by then
realised that there would be no life for her in her husband's household. They
were not going to accept a daughter-in-law who had lost her firstborn son. They
would make her life hell for her. She then asked the Buddha to be ordained as a
Bhikkhuni. The Buddha accepted her. Kisa Gotami then worked hard with her
practice. Not long after that, she was fully enlightened and became a Pra
Arahant.
We
can easily relate to the above three stories which happened during the Buddha's
lifetime. Dealing with grief because of losing our loved ones is indeed a very
common event and is always a difficult and painful subject to deal with no
matter what time and age we live in. The pain of a mother who loses her baby or
a spouse who loses his or her life-long partner is still the same pain as of
those people thousands of years ago. It is no more and no less. I would like to
urge you to notice that neither the Buddha nor his disciple really said
anything or did anything particularly extraordinary in trying to help those
people to understand death and overcome grief. Their words are in fact simple
logic that strikes you when you think about it and makes you view life
differently. It was very much about saying the right thing at the right time.
That is because when people's minds are too damaged due to grief or any other
emotion, they cannot think straight and totally overlook some simple reasons.
Having someone to talk to can help to bring some sense back. As for Kisa
Gotami, the Buddha knew that her grief was far too great for her to possibly
take in any other kind of teaching other than for her to find out the truth for
herself.
As
for the following story, you will find that it is undoubtedly rooted in the
concept of rebirth just like many other stories I have told you before. If you
don't yet believe in the cycle of rebirth, you are more than likely to view
these stories as fictional. So before I talk about the law of karma and the
cycle of rebirth in my next chapter, I would like to plant a seed of doubt in
your mind first just to prepare you to be open-minded about what I am going to
talk about in the next chapter.
People
who suffer long term illnesses, have very tough lives or feel suicidal like to
think that when death arrives, everything concerning this self will be finished
and there will be no more suffering. I would like to ask, how certain are you?
Are you sure that this physical death is a real one and can really put an end
to all your suffering? The physical body may be very dead but whether that
death can really put you out of misery or not is another matter. I know it must sound very strange and
odd to you. "What kind of question is that?" you might ask. The whole
point is that since no one has ever come back and told us the glorious details
of life after death, how can we be so sure of anything at all beyond the point
of physical death? If ending trouble, turmoil and suffering is so important to
some of you until you want to welcome an early death, what happens if you run away from this physical death
just to be alive in something else. What happens if there really was an entity
of a self which survived the physical death and moved on to the next dimension?
What happens if the suffering that you want so much to run away from is still
closely attached to that entity of self (mental self)? Could you be totally free from that
suffering as you had wished?
If
our pain and suffering are in the mind, it means that it has nothing to do with
this physical shell even though the shell has been destroyed. It is as if the
air that circulates in the house has been contaminated and polluted and
subsequently causes damage and endless problems. Do you need to burn the whole
house down just to make the air right? Or can you just find the source of the
blockage and clear the air? This comparison is exactly like our life form,
body-mind. Our mind is very much like the air that circulates the house or the
whole of our body. If the mind is in trouble, we can correct the mind instead
of burning the whole house down. And even if we burn the whole house down as if
physically dead, it doesn't mean that the air or the mind has been corrected.
That polluted air or the troubled mind will still be there even though the
house has gone. I hope you understand the comparison has to end somewhere. So
please don't argue that once the house is demolished, the air will flow and the
problem is solved!!!
As
regards the above issue, I admire the teacher Tang Mor Sieng who suggested such
a sensible logic. He said that people often doubt the teaching of the Buddha
about the ultimate enlightenment and the cycle of rebirth. He then advised
people to follow a simple logic. He said that let alone talking about the
Buddha, whether he would speak the truth or not, even ordinary people who are
morally good and honourable and have a strong belief in honesty, truthfulness
and integrity, would find it very difficult to lie or say untruthful words. If
virtuous people will not and cannot lie, how on earth can we doubt whether the
Buddha who is matchless to any being in the three worlds, might lie or not?
When I bring myself to think carefully about such a simple logic, I have to
agree with him wholeheartedly. It is very true that normal people who are very
honest find it difficult to bring themselves to lie about anything at all. Now,
we are talking about the Buddha who is the leader of the beings in the three
worlds. Why would he want to lie to us? It just doesn't make sense, does it?
I
think it is more than likely that people cannot understand what the Buddha said
rather than thinking that he lied. This is more likely to be the case. If it is
so, you should not too quickly brush away the concept of rebirth only because
you cannot understand and science says it cannot be proved. As a matter of
fact, if we can take away the misconception that the brain is responsible for
our thoughts and consciousness, we won't have any problem to believe in the
cycle of rebirth at all. In my next chapter, I will explain to you that the
Buddha sees the constitution of this life form and the universe very
differently from us.
Nevertheless,
if the Buddha did not want to say anything to upset people, he chose not to
talk and answer the questions.
It
makes me remember a story in the Tripitaka when the Buddha had to deal with an
actor of his time who desperately wanted to know where he would go after this
life. The Buddha knew that his answer would upset the actor.
"Please do not ask
me," the Buddha told the actor and walked away. The actor pursued and
asked again. The Buddha walked away three times until he knew that the actor
was not going to give up easily. Then he said:
"When you die from
this world, you will be born in the hell called........."
If
physical death can really end all our suffering, it is therefore a
contradiction to everything I have said in this book. It especially contradicts
the first requirement when I asked you to have passion in searching for the end
of suffering. There is no need to search for the ultimate enlightenment which
ends all suffering because we can all just sit back, wait for our physical
death to arrive and all our suffering will end on its own. I hope you can begin
to understand that it isn't that easy to pass all the requirements in this
book, especially the first requirement. It means that you can pass the first
requirement only when you can accept this doubt I am planting for you so that
you can open your mind and carefully listen to the law of karma and the cycle
of rebirth. In the mean-time, try not to view the following stories as fictional
and have the inclination to believe that the Buddha is speaking the truth,
nothing but the truth.
Once
the Buddha and his followers arrived at a place called Arawee. It was a great
honour to the Araweens and they were very happy, they gave the Buddha a great
welcome by offering him and his disciples all the good food and requisites. The
exalted one returned his gratitude by giving the people a sermon. It was the
most auspicious day for the Araweens and the congregation was packed with a big
crowd. Among them, there was a fifteen-year-old girl called Kumarika. She was
the only daughter of a local weaver.
The
Buddha chose to talk about the mindfulness of death. He said:
"Listen to this,
Araweens, life is impermanent but death is a certain thing. It is definite that
every one of us must die one day, sooner or later. Death is the end result of
every life. Thus, you should all have mindfulness of death. Those who have
never thought about death before, when death arrives, they will be terrified
and taken over by fear as if they were facing a fierce and angry animal. On the
other hand, people who always practise mindfulness of death will not be
startled and afraid when death arrives.
People's
lives are very short. We all have to move on to the next incarnation, quickly
do your good deeds and lead a holy life. There is absolutely no one on earth
who can choose not to die. Even people who live a long life may only reach a
hundred years old. There are very few who can live longer than that. You must
not be complacent and feel proud that you might have a long life. You must
quickly do the good kamma as if there is fire is on your head and you must
quickly put it out. You should have mindfulness of death and be glad that you
can live until this very moment and that no danger has yet come to harm you.
That's why you must listen to the words of all Buddhas.
How
often should you practise mindfulness of death? One might think that it is
often enough to be mindful of death every day, every half a day or even every
hour. You are wrong if you think that is
frequent enough. Ideally, mindfulness of death should be done at every
breath. Thus, this is what I call not being complacent. Wise people will listen
to the words of the Buddha."
After
the sermon, the Araweens paid their respects to the sublime Buddha and went
home to their work and the struggle to make ends meet. They soon forgot about
the teaching, but not Kumarika. While she was walking home, she thought to
herself:
"Oh! The words of the Buddha were magical and most inspiring. I
have never heard such beautiful teachings before in my whole life. I must do
exactly what the great teacher said. I will practise mindfulness of
death."
She
then practised mindfulness of death both day and night, at every breath as well
as she could manage.
People
who have the dhamma habit, even though they listen to the dhamma just once,
they will naturally have the inclination to follow the dhamma words. Those who
do not have the dhamma habit will not be able to absorb the words of truth even
though they have listened to the dhamma several times and lived near wise
people. It is important for the latter group of people to initially force
themselves to listen to the dhamma and begin to build the dhamma habit. If not,
the ignorant habit will stay with them for as long as it takes. Kumarika
naturally had the dhamma habit. She listened to the dhamma just once and she
immediately felt it was the right thing to do according to the teaching.
The
Buddha left Arawee and headed towards the great Shetavan temple in the town of
Savatthi, Kosala kingdom. As for Kumarika, she had kept her practice going from
the moment she heard the dhamma. She soon found out that the mindfulness of
death could really help her to find peace of mind and she had no fear of death.
She gained awareness and saw the sad truth of life which revolved around birth,
ageing, illness and death. She kept the practise going for three years,
gradually developed her skill and gained good results.
One
morning, the great teacher, the Lord Buddha Gautama telepathically looked out
for someone whom he could help which was the tradition practised by all the
Buddhas in the past. He then saw Kumarika, the daughter of the weaver of
Arawee, enter into his mind. When he carefully looked into it, the Buddha knew
that Kumarika had taken his advice on the mindfulness of death and she had done
it for three years now. The Buddha could foresee that she also had the dhamma
habit which meant that she deserved to become a Sotapanna (the first level of
holiness). Thus, the Buddha told himself that he should go to Arawee and asked
the four questions to Kumarika which would lead her to reach the fruit of
Sotapanna.
Then
the exalted Buddha along with his hundreds of followers set off on yet another
journey and headed for Arawee. They stayed at the Akara-vihara. The news of the
arrival of the Buddha spread rapidly. The Araweens quickly came to pay respect
to the Buddha and looked forward to listening to his teaching. Kumarika too was
thrilled when she heard of the news. Her heart was pounding with great joy and
excitement.
"My father
as well as my teacher has arrived. It has been three years since I last saw the
Lord Buddha who has the golden complexion. Today, I will have a chance to see
him again and listen to his most inspiring teaching "
While
she was getting herself ready to go out, her father said:
"Oh
Kumarika, I am on my way to see one of my customers now. He wants me to weave
him a piece of cloth for some special occasion. I have already started but I
need to find out a few more details about the pattern and I have also run out
of yarn. Can you spin more thread for me so that I can carry on weaving when I
come back."
Kumarika
did not expect her father to give her a job so suddenly. She was very
disappointed because her heart had gone to be with her spiritual father, the
Lord Buddha, but she could hardly say no to her father for fear of getting
herself into trouble. She told herself that she had better stay and quickly
finish the work and then she could go to see the Buddha later. She hurriedly
spun the basketful of balls of cotton into yarn to be ready for her father to
use when he returned. Her mind however was not with the work like it used to
be. She was so anxious to see the Buddha that she did not finish spinning all
the balls of cotton as she intended to do. She decided to leave the last few
balls of cotton behind.
"Father should have enough yarn to weave when he returns. I will quickly
come home to finish the rest of these balls," she said to herself. She
then swiftly tidied and cleaned herself up and headed for the Vihara. Before
she left home, she did not forget to grab a few reels of cotton in saffron
colour and put them in a basket so that she could offer them to the Buddha.
Meanwhile,
at the Akara-vihara, the Araweens came with all the well-prepared foods for
offering to the Buddha and all his disciples. They looked very busy tending to
the needs of all the Sangha led by the greatest teacher of the three worlds. It
was visible that they were very happy in being able to do so. It was a Buddhist
tradition that after the meal, the Buddha would return the gratitude by
chanting the holy words of blessing to the congregation (anumodana). It is a
way to rejoice and approve the meritorious deeds of the people.
When
it reached the time of anumodana, the leader of the congregation approached the
Buddha. He expected to see the great Lord handing his alms bowl to him so that
the Buddha could do the anumodana. The worthy one looked into the congregation
well packed with people. He could not see Kumarika in the crowd. The Buddha
then thought to himself:
" I have travelled thirty yojana[1]
so that I could teach the daughter of the weaver. She has not arrived yet. I
will wait until she comes and then I will do the anumodana."
The Buddha did not hand over his alms bowl to the Araweens' leader. He
sat in his most serene manner, looked into the crowd and remained silent. When
the Buddha was quiet, no one else would move or whisper a sound. The silence
gradually spread to the whole of the congregation. Suddenly, it was as if no
one was there. If the Buddha refused to speak, no one in the three worlds could
make him talk. The silent atmosphere went on for quite a long time until
Kumarika turned up and stood by the edge of the crowd near to the entrance. She
looked straight to the greatest teacher of the world and was eager to admire
his graceful appearance and golden complexion. She could see that the Buudha
stretched his neck to look out for her and then everyone in the congregation
looked in the same direction as the Buddha.
Kumarika
was an intelligent girl. For some reason, she knew that the Buddha was waiting
for her, otherwise, he wouldn't have taken special notice of her among a big
crowd like that. Kumarika promptly
bent forward, walked on her knees and tried to make her way through to be in
front of the Lord Buddha.
In
the meantime, the Buddha knew that his followers sitting by him were curious to
know why their master went to such great lengths for this girl. The Buddha then
telepathically talked to all his disciples.
"When
worldly persons depart from this world and into their next incarnation, there
is no guarantee that they will go to a better realm due to their previous
karma. This young girl has the dhamma habit and is able to reach the fruition
of Sotapanna today. After she has answered my four questions, she will be a
Sotapanna. The fruition of Sotapanna will secure her a good incarnation because
she will die today. No one can change that but she will never go to hell ever
again."
All
the Buddha's disciples just began to realise the overwhelming kindness and
compassion of their matchless master towards this girl. He had travelled such a
great distance just to make sure that this young girl could secure herself a
good incarnation.
Kumarika
finally reached the Buddha whom she had regarded as her spiritual father for
the past three years. She carefully paid great respect to the Buddha by bowing
with her head touching the floor three times and subsequently offered the
basket with the reels of cotton to the Buddha. The Buddha accepted the gift and
put it down to one side. He kindly looked at the girl bowing with her head down
in front of him and asked:
"Kumarika, where do you come from?"
"I don't know, my lord," she answered.
"Where are you going to?" the Buddha asked again.
"I don't know, my lord," she answered.
"Don't
you know?" the Buddha asked further.
"Yes, I do know," Kumarika nodded her head.
"Do you know?" the Buddha asked again.
"No, I don't know, my dear father." Kumarika slowly shook her
head whilst she answered the last question.
No
sooner than the conversation between the Buddha and the girl had finished, the
crowd showed their discontent towards the daughter of the weaver. There were
angry reactions and whispers among the crowd:
"How dare she talk nonsense to the Lord Buddha? Why couldn't she
answer the truth that she came from her father's house and so on."
The
Buddha knew about the angry reaction and the blame towards the young girl. He
then raised his hand and the crowd went quiet again. The Buddha subsequently
asked the girl:
"What did you mean by saying that you didn't know where you came
from?"
"I knew that I came from my father's house but I don't know where I
was before I came to be born in this world, my lordship," Kumarika explained.
"What
did you mean by saying that you didn't know where you were going?" the
Buddha asked.
"I knew that after I leave here, I will return to my father's home
again but I don't know where I will be going to after I die from this world, my
lordship. I don't know whether I will come back to be born as a human, an
animal, a hungry ghost, a hellish being or a heavenly being in one of the upper
realms sir."
"And what did you mean by saying that you knew? What exactly did
you know?"
"I know that I must die one day, sooner or later sir. That is what
I know for sure."
"Then, you answered my last question by saying that you didn't
know. What did you mean, Kumarika?"
"I meant that I do not know on which day I will die. I also do not
know how and where I will die, my lordship."
The
Buddha rejoiced at every answer clarified by the weaver's daughter. He then
talked to the crowd:
"Listen to this, everyone. You blamed this girl because you did not
know the profound meaning of the answers she gave me. Now that she has
explained her answers very clearly, I fully approve and bless her. She answered
all my questions correctly. Those who have wisdom can understand easily."
The
Buddha paused for a short while and looked around at his congregation. He then
continued:
"This world is utterly dark. The majority of the people are still
blind. There are very few people who could be enlightened. There are very few
people too who could go to heaven. Most beings are trapped in the darkness just
like birds trapped in the net of a hunter. There are very few who can break
free from it. This world is completely dark not because of the lack of sunshine
but because of the ignorance and the misunderstanding that people have towards
their own lives. People have been living in the darkness of ignorance until
they have got used to it. Not until they have a chance to come out of the dark
and slowly experience the light will they reach the point where they can
compare the difference between the light and the dark. Only then will they know
that living in the darkness of ignorance is full of danger, threat and hazard.
It is a very vulnerable and risky life. There is nothing pleasant about it at
all. On the contrary, living in the light of wisdom can bring a great deal of
joy, peace, true happiness and a chance to witness everything as it is. It is a
great shame that there is only a handful of people who can see and know what is
what. The reason that people are trapped in the net of ignorance is because
they underestimate the words of the dhamma. They would rather answer to their
temptations and do what they desire to do. This is the main cause that makes
people seem willing to be trapped in the world of darkness."
Immediately
after the Buddha had finished his discourse, Kumarika entered into the stream
of holiness and become a Sotapanna. It means that the gateway to hell had shut
down completely for her. Although the Buddha aimed to teach and helped Kumarika
to be enlightened, a great number of people in the congregation also gained
wisdom from that dhamma. They were very pleased and rejoiced in the worthy one.
When
the crowd dispersed, Kumarika hurried to return home and intended to finish the
job that she had left undone. When she entered the room. She saw her father
sitting in front of his hand loom. Apparently, he had dropped off to sleep
while his right hand was still holding the flying shuttle. Kumarika did not
want to disturb her weary father. She quietly sat down by her basket with a few
balls of cotton left in there and was going to spin more yarn for her father.
Suddenly she dropped the wooden reel on the floor, the loud noise woke her
father up. Whilst the weaver was trying to gain full consciousness, he
automatically threw across the flying shuttle in his right hand. Without full
control of what he was doing, the flying shuttle did not stop and flew straight
out from the other end of the loom. The sharp end of the needle went straight
into the chest of Kumarika who was sitting on the left hand side of the loom.
She screamed with a loud noise. The father got up and rushed to his only
daughter who by now was lying flat on the floor. She was covered with blood.
The father did not know what to do and shouted out for help. The doctor came
but there was nothing he could do for her. She had died instantly.
The
weaver cried out with immense guilt and pain at losing his only daughter at
such a tender age. He could not face such a huge loss nor could he live with so
great a shame. He knew that the Buddha must still be at the Vihara. He quickly
left to search for him as he was certain that the Buddha was the only one who
could help to take away his immense suffering.
Sitting
and sobbing uncontrollably in front of the Buddha, the despairing father asked
the Buddha for help. The exalted one looked at the poor man with great kindness
and gently consoled him with the words of truth.
"Listen carefully Pesaka, please do not be so sad. The length of this
samsara is so long that no one can possibly know the beginning and the end of
it. We all have lost our loved ones before. This is not the first time that you
have lost your dearest daughter. The tears of people who have suffered because
they lost their loved ones somewhere in this samsara are as much as the water
in the ocean, if not more.
Pesaka, please let go of your sorrow, this lengthy and endless samsara
is well decorated with different faces of suffering, torment and anguish. For
example, the hardship in working, struggling to make ends meet to provide food
for the family, the suffering resulting from illnesses, the suffering resulting
from old age, the turmoil resulting from arguing and fighting, the misery
resulting from the burning of desire and craving, the sorrow resulting from
parting from your loved ones, the discontentment resulting from not having the
looks, wealth and status that we want and the trouble in having to look after
and pamper this body all the time as if it were constantly a baby.
Listen
Pesaka, samsara is frightening because there are plenty of dangers. It is as if
you are lost in a deep jungle where there are fierce animals surrounding you.
You must try to find your way out of this fearful jungle or samsara. I have
already come out of samsara and am trying to help others to be free from it
too. At this moment, your daughter has already become a Sotapanna. She has
known the way to get out of samsara. She will not be born in any realm lower
than that of human-beings. The gateway to hell has completely shut down for
her. You must not worry.
The
weaver attentively listened to the words of truth which were full of good
reasons. Unlike three years ago when he first heard of the Buddha's teaching
and did not think much of it, now he could absorb all the profound meaning of
the dhamma which touched right to the centre of his heart. Suddenly, he could
uplift all the pain and agony off his chest. He realised how magical the words
of the Buddha were. He spontaneously decided to follow the footsteps of the
Buddha and humbly asked the worthy one to ordain him. Pesaka worked very hard
with his practice and not long after that he became a Pra Arahant, a fully
enlightened one who has permanently left samsara behind.
[1] Yojana is the measure of the length of
distance in ancient India. One yojana is equivalent to 10 miles or 16
kilometres