the happiness from within a pure mind - that happiness is perpetual

Inspired by the second verse of the Yammaka Vagga (The Twin Verses) of the Dhammapada - "Matthakundali Vatthu" - Happiness follows the doer of good

Once upon a time, long long ago, in a place far far away, as all good stories say, was the Munisangama Ashrama of the great muni, Rangabhashya. At the confluence of the great rivers, below the tall Himalayas, the most sacred of all places before one came to the vast plains of irrigated lands, more than a thousand monks resided and conducted their spiritual studies and learnt their skills at sanctification of the mind. Seekers of knowledge came to the Munisangama Ashrama from many regions, from all over the great land of the mighty rivers of the Sindhu and the Ganges, from the rivers to the southern regions of Jambudvipa, from all over the Himalayas, from the east, across the sea at Navadvipa, and from the west beyond the known regions of the mighty river of Sindhu and her sisters. There were the people from the south, and white skinned people who came from across the seas, or along the great mountain passes to the north of the Sindhu, and there were also people who would come from above the Himalayas.


They were all welcome at the Munisangama Ashrama, and a true seeker of knowledge was never refused permission to enter and stay. There were also several families who were resident at the outer areas around the Ashrama for many generations, and the great muni, Rangabhashyama's father, Neelamegha, had declared that students of knowledge had to also undergo the bliss and pain of marriage, family and old age to sharpen their thoughts and thereby learn dispassion and minimalism. It was said that Neelamegha's great grandfather had come from a remote village in the heart of the mountains below the Zhangzhung region of the great plateau above the mighty Himalayas.


There was a regularly used mountain path from these hidden valleys and remote villages to the great Indian plains below the Himalayas. This pathway took a persistent and brave traveler to the great mountain of Kangri Rinpoche, or Kailasa, in the Gangdise mountains of the high plateau above the Himalayas. These remote villages had strong trade links with the great ashramas of the Himalayas and small traders and caravans regularly traveled to sell their harvests and other produce. It was therefore never a surprise to see all sorts of people at the Munisangama Ashrama of the great muni, Rangabhashya, at any season or on any day.


And thus it was that, on one day, during a season of very intense monsoon, a caravan of traders came down from the remote villages of the hidden valleys inside the mighty Himalayas. The great muni, Rangabhashya, had with great foresight, established a camping ground for visiting caravans in forested areas across the river. This arrangement ensured that the comings and goings of the caravans did not disturb the life of the ashrama, and the traders and their servants and their animals could rest and arrange their tents in peace and without any disturbance. The great muni's brother-in-law, Alavanderasena, had been given instructions and the control to establish a small settlement of families who provided supplies, food and other needs for the traveling caravans. 


The caravan that arrived on a day of intense stormy rain seemed very unlike the usual trading groups that traveled together. There seemed to be several different caravans traveling south of the Himalayas. As Alavanderasena found out on enquiry, many landslides in the upper mountains during intense rainfall had delayed the caravans, and as a result, more than ten caravans had strung out, one after the other, and moved carefully through the dangerous high passes, and the treacherous low valley floor pathways alongside torrential rivers. Some travelers had died, some had returned, some were left to recover from monsoon illnesses with native herbal medicine men in the villages above, and some had been left behind with goods and carts that could not travel due to bad damage and repairs.


These were usual happenings, and the families at the caravan settlement were familiar with such events. Alavanderasena had distributed the caravans to separate camping areas in the forests, with the oldest and the largest ones getting sites near the river, while others got camping locations alongside smaller river streams that flowed inside the forests. The caravan animals needed to rest, the carts needed to be repaired, and everyone were simply tired and exhausted. Alavanderasena assigned 2-3 families to each caravan to attend to their needs and to take care of providing cooked food for the first two days, and to provide ample fodder stacks to satiate the cattle, camels, horses, mules and buffaloes in the caravan. There were other animals too, for trade, such as donkeys and exotic birds. One caravan had two elephants for sale, while another caravan had brought two tigers as a gift to a local king.


There was another major travel route that went east-west along the mighty river, and then turned northwards to Sravasti and the Jetavana monastery, where the Most Enlightened One would go to, for his annual retreat from the great University to the south. The Most Enlightened One would visit the nearby monasteries nearby, while he traveled with more than two thousand monks, students and others who would merely want to travel with him, and listen to his teachings on each evening at the places that he would camp. The great muni, Rangabhashya, looked forward to these visits by the Most Enlightened One, with the eagerness of a child waiting for his return of his parent. On such occasions, the great muni became a student and would rush to join the group of learners and travel with the Most Enlightened One for about 7-8 days.


An ashrama nearby had made arrangements for the Most Enlightened One and his more than two thousand monks and nearly another thousand followers of all manner. The sangha would stop at the ashrama for two nights while on its route northwards to Jetavana and Sravasti and on its route southwards to Nalanda and Rajgir. The muni, Balapilavarendra, was an earlier student of the great muni, Rangabhashya, and had gone ahead to the nearby region to establish the new ashram at the instructions of the elders at the Munisangama Ashrama. There was ample water here, and the place was in a secluded valley, away from the other caravan roads, and had large groves of wild mango and domesticated varieties. At the example of the great muni, Rangabhashya, several hundred monks of different orders of faith would proceed to the ashrama of Balapilavarendra, and seek the blessings of the Most Enlightened One and listen to his teachings during his stay.


This was the reason why the great muni, Rangabhashya, had located separate camping areas for the caravans coming down from the Himalayas or from the west, from the Sindhu and beyond, or from the golden kingdoms to the east of Navadvipa, even as far as Mon and Mranma. There were traders, vagrants, warriors, migrants, small tribes, or families and mercenaries of all sorts, and Rangabhashya was careful that they should not get any opportunity to disturb the manner of life and daily duties of the residents in the ashramas or nearby villages. The caravans were welcome to say at the caravan grounds, and were free to travel on the trade routes. Local businessmen, farmers, landlords, warriors and the monks and local families, and representatives of some local kings would visit the caravan camping grounds and conduct their trade and purchase and sell. At times, there were performers, drama artistes and performing animals, folk singers and chanters of traditional songs, who would travel in the caravans, and these people and their animals would be invited to the ashramas or villages to perform, sing or tell stories of their lands.


To be continued...

The mind that is pure, that mind is indeed happy

Inspired by the second verse of the Yammaka Vagga (The Twin Verses) of the Dhammapada - "Matthakundali Vatthu" - Happiness follows the doer of good

Once upon a time, long long ago, in a place far far away, as all good stories say, in the old village of Satyagriha, very near the town of Sravasti of known fame due to the travels and stay of the Most Enlightened One in these regions, lived an old brahmin archaka, a priest, Perikasyapa, who was very devoted to his duties at the temple and beloved by his family. His son, Balakasyapa, would also help him at the temple alongside him, at the prayers, and on some days, was known to conduct the day long sanctification, all by himself. Perikasyapa was very proud of his son and loved him dearly, and would always speak of him with pride in his voice to his neighbour, the kind and benevolent neighbour, Dayaluprema. 

Perikasyapa had a large family. Two other sons, Raghavakasyapa and Harshakasyapa had been given the responsibility of managing the  temple's cropfields, wells and animals, including the dairy sheds, cattle, mules, horses and elephants. The temple was not as impressive as the other large temples in the region, and certainly not as large as the Jetavana monastery at Sravasti, where the Most Enlightened One led his sangha for the past several years.

Four daughters born before his sons had been married and were settled in the town of Sravasti and nearby villages to honest and god-fearing brahmins from very old families in the region. All four daughters, Deepakalavika, Neetikalavika, Preetikalavika and Jyotikalavika had loved their father dearly and were deeply attached to the temple and its annual religious ceremonies. They returned, year after year, to help Perikasyapa and Balakasyapa in organising the festivities and prayers, and they would come, each one of the four daughters, with their spouses, children and servants and other relatives.

Perikasyapa  was never tired of telling the mother of his chidlren, Kalavikamata, of the god's own blessings and the proper manner of all prayers, and denial of any wrong doing, had allowed them to be happy with their children, and their children's families, and their children's children, while also being happy with the manner of functioning of the temple and all their properties and their animals.

Perikasyapa’s neighbour, Dayaluprema, was a grocer but was also an expert at breeding select varieties of cattle and also had several businesses, including a grain shop and a dairy farm. Dayaluprema and the wonderful and wise Bhavanamata, the mother of his chidlren were very devout householders, and were always present at the small temple at Satyagriha, helping Perikasyapa, and also chatting with him about all worldly matters.

Perikasyapa and Dayaluprema were very busy people, and they would be at their work from before dawn, and would be working through the day, and moving about in the village and nearby areas and to Sravasti, at least once a day. They were well known in the area and loved by all and respected because of their good behaviour and generous nature. Their children were also good natured and devoted to their tasks and always generous to one and all. Their language was pure and their speech was clean.

There was many an occasion when the poor, the old, the sick and the needy in the region would come to them asking for some help or guidance and would never be turned away. Perikasyapa took care to ensure that he should never be considered as a charitable but foolish person. To each person who would come asking for help, the old priest would ask questions about the misfortune, and would offer support by way of food, clothing and shelter and money in exchange for a job and service at the temple, or his crop fields or dairy farms or in setting up a vending shop in Sravasti or nearby places.

There were always many opportunities, he felt, and these were not seen because one was in misery or in severe distress, or merely because people did not know how to recognise a way out of their problems. Perikasyapa felt that if one was devoted to their work, and to their god, and to their family, there would be strength of thought that would always flow like a river within their mind, and this would give that ability to help others always without any hesitation.

Similar to Perikasyapa, the actions of Kalavikamata, were always being praised by the villagers of Satyagriha. She had more courage and kindness in her mind, and usually, she never waited for someone to approach her for help. She had a way, an enormous ocean of kindness within her, and with a happy mind, she could locate those helpless people, who would hover nearby and not have the courage to come and ask for help. Her eyes saw their distress, and her mind recognised their anguish and her heart accepted, with all her love, that they did not wish to lose their dignity in asking for help and accepting charity.

Kalavikamata would wave to these helpless ones, calling them nearer, and unlike Perikasyapa, without any questions or without asking them to work in return, she would give each one a small fistfull of curd rice from a large pot carried on a small cart accompanying her. She was always with her small cart, pulled by a very faithful and beloved ox, Bhatta, who had been on the same task for many many years. At times, it seemed that even Bhatta knew where to stop, and as the grandchildren loved to claim, Bhatta also knew how to recognise those who needed help from Kalavikamata.

Several grandchildren accompanied Kalavikamata and her small cart and Bhatta, the most docile, friendly and good-natured ox. The children would help in giving the curd rice to people, and would keep the fistfulls ready in wrapped up banana leaves. They enjoyed this work, and one some days, they would also call their young friends from other houses to join them. To the villagers of Satyagriha and to the visitors from other places, and to all at Sravasti, it seemed like the pure mind of Perikasyapa was always at peace and always keen to help others. It seemed like this purity of thought and benevolence of action flowed like an endless never ceasing river from Perikasyapa to Kalavikamata and thereby to all their children and their spouses and their families and to their grandchildren.

Always kind and helpful within themselves, and in perpetual association with good and pure souls, it did seem that the good nature went out to accept the people who met them, and each one of them went away carrying their kindness and goodness in their hearts. The love that they spread among people also seemed to reach out to all the animals near them and this was seen clearly by all those who saw the manner of behaviour of the animals who were in service at the carts or the yokes at the crop fields or those that were in the dairy farms.

Most uniquely, this love and benevolence also spread to the wild birds and animals in Satyagriha. Near the temple, and among the fruit orchards and flower gardens of Perikasyapa, it was the task of a gardener, one who had come years ago, asking for help, and ended up working at the gardens, to place nesting pots and fill up the drinking pans for the wild birds, garden peafowl and the pigeons that swarmed the area. This gardener had lost one hand in a fight with a fellow thief, in his earlier occupation as a bandit. Jobless, and with no means to help his family, he had come to Perikasyapa asking for help, and had confessed all information about his wrongful actions.

Perikasyapa had employed the one-handed bandit, and named as Cheyyilena and asked him to tend to the temple’s flower gardens behind the southern walls, and reuse all the waters that drained from the temple to irrigate the fruit orchards and flower beds. Over many years, Cheyyilena had settled his family in a small hut below the southern walls of the temple, near an old disused well that still retained water. His own children had become young persons in these years and went to work on the crop fields of Perikasyapa in nearby areas.

In all these years, Cheyyilena, kept soaking up the kindness of Perikasyapa and the benevolence of Kalavikamata, and got totally captured by the purity of their minds, and the good nature of their thoughts, and in a short period had totally forgotten of who he had been in earlier years, and thus cleansing his own mind. His thoughts had become pure and sincere, and he ceased to have evil thoughts, and over some years, had come to accept, believe and act in such a manner that he would only conduct himself with a totally pure mind. Thereby, his actions though restricted mainly to trees, flowers, water and to the birds, and feral dogs and cats and the occasional wandering donkey from the nearby brick kilns, his day-long actions also resounded with the purity of his mind and thought.

At one of the flower gardens alongside the southern walls of the temple, Cheyyilena had placed a series of clay saucers with water for birds to quench their thirst. These saucers were kept on ledges above the ground, high enough, so that the village dogs could not jump up or dislodge them. Some cats would always attempt to reach the saucers for the birds, but Cheyyilena had thought about it and placed larger and deeper vessels at ground level for the dogs and cats to drink from.

Cheyyilena’s wife would always leave the leftover rice and lentils, small portions of leftovers, high enough so that the birds could eat peacefully without any threat from the dogs and cats. There was always enough food at the temple and market areas for the dogs and cats of Satyagriha and, in any case, Cheyyilena’s wife never had large portions of leftovers. The sparrows, mynas and bulbuls, and the occasional other birds that came by were the right number to completely consume the leftover food.

On one such day, when the Most Enlightened One was at Jetavana, in Sravasti, near the village of Satyagriha, it so happened that there was a big feast at the temple, and Cheyyilena and his wife had gone to help Perikasyapa and others with the activities and serving food to all those who attended. Having eaten at the temple, Cheyyilena’s wife had more food at her home as leftovers to give to the birds. This food was tasty and spicy and the odour was very welcoming and tempting to one hungry and starved-looking dog, perhaps a wandering mongrel from some other place. The dogs of Satyagriha were still busy feasting at the leftovers of the feast of the day before and were not present at the flower garden.

This had presented an opportunity to the stranger mongrel, who came up to the vessels containing water, drank from them, and began searching for the food that he could not see, but could certainly smell very strongly. He looked around and could not spot any food, but following his nose, he could guess that the wonderful smells were coming from the ledge, high above, and was probably being consumed by the many birds that he saw flocking around.

Hungry and desperate, not able to contain himself, the mongrel barked in request to the myna that was perched nearby. That myna, seemed to understand that the stranger dog was hungry and needed food, for, it flew up to the ledge, and having perched itself on some lumps of lentil-mixed rice balls, pushed them from the ledge, to fall on the ground. Immediately, the hungry dog pounced on the rice balls and consumed them, drank some water and ran away, satisfied and happy.

The monk, Jaiprakasa Muni, was seated nearby, under the shade of a mango tree. As I have informed you earlier, he could understand the language spoken by all wild and domestic creatures, and was also able to talk to them. He had been seated in the orchard for some time, resting, and waiting for the noon meals to be over at the temple and the market, so that he could go to the village to beg for his alms and food. He had seen the desperate hunger of the wandering stranger-mongrel, and had seen him bark in request to the myna, and had seen the kind bird, with purity in its mind, and clean in its thought, push away some food from the ledge to allow the dog to eat.

He knew of the kindness and purity of mind of Perikasyapa, his family and the benevolent nature of most of the villagers of Satyagriha. He knew of Cheyyilena, and of how without any attempt to preach, the bandit had been reformed with the assurance of honest employment, and of how he had gained perpetual purity in his mind and busied himself only in good deeds. The monk, Jaiprakasa Muni, called out to the myna, “O kind bird, please, slow yourself in your busy actions, and do come near and sit at this low branch, for I want to be able to see inside your mind, and seek the blessings of your pure mind.”

The kind myna, not realising the import and intent of the words of the wise monk, came down immediately and perched on a branch that swung low from the mango tree. Hearing the words of the monk, all the other birds also came to perch nearby. Sparrows, mynas, bulbuls, doves, parakeets and cuckoos, and many others, including two peafowl that had been sitting on their eggs, quietly and secretly, in some flower bushes nearby, also came to sit nearby. All these birds, possibly more than thirty, sat patiently awaiting the words of the wise monk who spoke to all the wild and domestic creatures.

He said to the birds, “O soul-driven birds of this splendid place, O flying birds, who can always seek places with purity in your minds, hear me out, for I am blessed that I can speak to all living creatures, those that are freely wild, and also to all domestic creatures, and I see all aspects of life, the good and the bad, the pure and the evil, the content and the misery, the peaceful and the troubled and this I see, that sadness (dukha) follows the impure mind, and happiness (sukha) follows the perpetually pure mind.”

“O kind bird, the unhesitating act of helping a stranger, by giving away something that you needed to survive, without question and without any second thought, this very action came from the purity in your mind, and thereby you have assured yourselves of the results of good actions by others and the certainty that you will forever be successful in being good, always.”

The monk, Jaiprakasa Muni, said thus to all the birds listening to him, “All living beings are unique, in that their actions emerge from their thoughts, and their thoughts lead to their experiences. Since your thoughts were to result in helpful action, and in good deeds, you will continue to convey good thoughts, and this purity in mind will thus become stronger. The results will always be in good deeds, thus always leading you to happiness. Such happiness, resulting from good thought, will never leave you, and will always be with you. Wherever you fly, and even if you perch within the darkest tree, your happiness will always follow you like a faithful shadow that will never leave you, even if you cannot see it. Thus, taught the Most Enlightened One.” 

The Dhammapada - Yammaka Vagga - Verse 2 - Matthakundali Vathu

The Dhammapada

Yammaka Vagga

 

Verse 2

Matthakundali Vathu

Manopubbangama dhamma
manosettha manomaya
manasa ce pasannena
bhasati va karoti va
tato nam sukha¹ manveti
chayava anapayini.

Verse 2: All mental phenomena have mind as their forerunner; they have mind as their chief; they are mind-made. If one speaks or acts with a pure mind, happiness (sukha) follows him like a shadow that never leaves him.

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1. Sukham/sukha: in this context, happiness, satifactoriness, fortune, etc., and rebirth in the three upper planes of happy existence.

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The Story of Matthakundali

While residing at the Jetavana monastery in Savatthi, the Buddha uttered Verse (2) of this book, with reference to Matthakundali, a young Brahmin. Matthakundali was a young brahmin, whose father, Adinnapubbaka, was very stingy and never gave anything in charity. Even the gold ornaments for his only son were made by himself to save payment for workmanship. When his son fell ill, no physician was consulted, until it was too late. When he realized that his son was dying, he had the youth carried outside on to the verandah, so that people coming to his house would not see his possessions.

On that morning, the Buddha arising early from his deep meditation of compassion saw, in his Net of Knowledge, Matthakundali lying on the verandah. So when entering Savatthi for alms-food with his disciples, the Buddha stood near the door of the brahmin Adinnapubbaka. The Buddha sent forth a ray of light to attract the attention of the youth, who was facing the interior of the house. The youth saw the Buddha; and as he was very weak he could only profess his faith mentally. But that was enough. When he passed away with his heart in devotion to the Buddha he was reborn in the Tavatimsa celestial world.

From his celestial abode the young Matthakundali, seeing his father mourning over him at the cemetery, appeared to the old man in the likeness of his old self. He told his father about his rebirth in the Tavatimsa world and also urged him to approach and invite the Buddha to a meal. At the house of Adinnapubbaka the question of whether one could or could not be reborn in a celestial world simply by mentally professing profound faith in the Buddha, without giving in charity or observing the moral precepts, was brought up. So the Buddha willed that Matthakundali should appear in person; Matthakundali soon appeared fully decked with celestial ornaments and told them about his rebirth in the Tavatimsa world. Then only, the audience became convinced that the son of the brahmin Adinnapubbaka by simply devoting his mind to the Buddha had attained much glory.

Then the Buddha spoke in verse as follows:

Verse 2: All mental phenomena have mind as their forerunner; they have mind as their chief; they are mind-made. If one speaks or acts with a pure mind, happiness (sukha) follows him like a shadow that never leaves him.

At the end of the discourse Matthakundali and his father Adinnapubbaka attained Sotapatti Magga and Sotapatti Phala. Adinnapubbaka also donated almost all his wealth to the cause of the Buddha's Teaching.

The verse and the specific parable are sourced from the following references (13 April 2012) –

1. http://www.tipitaka.net/tipitaka/dhp/verseload.php?verse=002

2. http://www.buddhanet.net/dhammapada/d_twin.htm

 Copyright is retained with original authors at these websites and pages. The verse is copied here for easy reference to the stories being presented. 

He cured her, and then, destroyed her

Inspired by the first verse of the Yammaka Vagga (The Twin Verses) of the Dhammapada - "Cakkhupalatthera Vatthu" - Suffering follows the evil-doer

Once upon a time, long long ago, in a place far far away, as all good stories say, near the very ancient kingdom of Kasi, along the might river Ganges, were the villages of Balapila and Syamala. While they were quite close to each other and to the mighty city of Benares, the capital city of the kingdom of Kasi, as the crow would fly, it was quite difficult to travel between these places. After all, humans did not perch on crows to fly a straight distance, did they? Humans are humans and they tend to remain humans, do they not?

The villages of Balapila and Syamala were about ten kilometers away from each other, but were on either bank of the Ganges. The Naga River flowed near the village of Balapila and met the Ganges as a tributary about four kilometers southwards. It was the Shanta River that flowed near the village of Syamala and met the Ganges as a tributary about fifteen kilometers eastwards of the Naga River. Both the villages were considered as the meeting point, sangam, of these tributaries of the Ganges. As a result, these villages also had important temples at the riverbanks.

This story took place in the rule of the very ancient King Brahmadatta. He ruled the kingdom of Kasi when the Most Enlightened One was born as a merchant and would often travel to the east and west with more than five hundred carts in his journeys. But that is another story and you can read about it in the Jatakamala. This was a time when the wilderness between the magnificent city of Benares and the nearby villages discouraged travelers from moving about on their own or with small caravans. Most travelers and merchants preferred to travel together and at other times, thought it wiser to move along with the larger caravans such as that of the Most Enlightened One, when he had been born a merchant in the rule of the King Brahmadatta.

Other caravans came to the great city of Benares from other kingdoms. Such a kingdom was Seri, and it was known that the merchants from the kingdom of Seri were not to be trusted in a bargain. It was also said the same of the people from the villages of the kingdom of Seri. In one such village, lived a very respected eye-physician called Vaidya Kittamutti. He was known to be able to diagnose any disease of the eye in an instant. It was said that he was blessed with these abilities from the muni Nagabhushana himself. Vaidya Kittamutti had lived for many years in the care of the muni Nagabhushana at the Munisangama Ashrama of the great muni Rangabhashya.

Before he had become a physician, a vaidya, Kittamutti was a trader of mud and oils for the very large oil producing mines of the King of Seri. Being of a very unscrupulous nature, he had very soon lost his job in the trade of mud and oils and traveled to the foothill plains of the Himalayas, where the two mighty rivers met, and had sought refuge in the Munisangama Ashrama of the great muni Rangabhashya. He had heard of very many different skills and schools of knowledge at the ashrama, and thought that this would be the right place and time to change his own skills.

The muni Nagabhushana had offered him a place to reside in at his own residence, with the many other students that he had within his gurukulam. Being of a very trusting nature, he had taken the vagrant mud and oil trader, Kittamutti, to his own heart, and had taught him the science of curing eye diseases and had enabled him to become a complete eye-physician. Kittamutti had lived in the gurukulam for more than ten years, serving the muni Nagabhushana and his family. Finally, the muni Nagabhushana had given his daughter in marriage to the vaidya Kittamutti. In his gratitude, Kittamutti had continued to live with the muni Nagabhushana and served him with more devotion and care for eight more years. In this manner, he managed to become a better person, more learned inspite of his earlier illiteracy of the sciences, and came to be well known.

Kittamutti left the Munisangama Ashrama and traveled back to the Kingdom of Seri. Very soon, he became well known in the use of his skills as an eye-physician. People came from very distant places in search of him to cure themselves of their anguish because of their eye diseases. The daughter of the muni Nagabhushana made all patients and their families feel at home and took care of them and fed them and nursed them while the Vaidya Kittamutti tended to their cure. It was in this cycle of care and motherly love and the couple’s untiring efforts to tend to the miseries of strangers whom Kittamutti took to be his own family, that they felt the need to be of more and more help to others.

In spite of the unquestioned passage of knowledge, ethics and attitude that the muni Nagabhushana provided to Kittamutti, and further in spite of the untiring love, labour and support that the daughter of the muni Nagabhushana gave to serving Kittamutti’s ever growing and ever demanding family of strangers, the inherent negativities and tendency to evil reactions never left him. On many occasions, he would bring together friends of a similar evil nature and would indulge in the intake of wine and other spirits that were denied to a vaidya who practiced such a fine art of precision such as the curing of eye diseases. At other times, Kittamutti would indulge in the wrongful behaviour of smoking prohibited drugs that would dull ones’ senses and cause long-term damage to the brain and the processes of thought that preceded action or reaction.

Once, in the eve of the Kartika month of the lunar year, came a caravan of 500 carts belonging to the merchant who would be born again as the Most Enlightened One. He came from the Kingdom of Kasi, and stayed awhile in the city where Kittamutti was known as an expert eye-physician. It was known that one of the cart drivers had not been able to see well of the road at night hours and therefore went to get treated at the hands of the Vaidya Kittamutti. The eye-physician examined the cart driver, and knew of the problem to be able to understand light and shadows as the night approached and gave to him an ointment that had been made by crushing several seeds of the Himalayan trees. At the very instant of the application, the cart driver had said that he felt he could see better of the light and shadows at night.

The cart driver told of this miracle to other cart drivers and merchants in the caravan of the merchant who would be born again as the Most Enlightened One. The merchants and cart drivers came to meet Kittamutti and appreciated the power of his curative abilities. They suggested that he could travel with them to the village of Balapila, on the sangam of the River Naga with the River Ganges. They told him that the village was an important trading post outside the ancient city of Benares and he would prosper and become well known. And thus, when the caravan left the kingdom of Seri, Kittamutti and his wife traveled along with them with their own oxen-cart, having sold away all his property and house and went to the village of Balapila and settled there.

The village of Balapila was a prosperous trading junction on the West to East road network that came out of the great city of Benares, alongside the mighty river Ganges. Very soon, the fame of the eye-physician traveled to many distant places in the Kingdom of Kasi and neighboring kingdoms. Patients came to the village of Balapila with their ailments and were taken care by the daughter of muni Nagabhushana as she did at the Kingdom of Seri. The vaidya Kittamutti knew that his wife struggled enormously in her work to serve the patients and as also to take care of their house.

The fame and prosperity of Kittamutti also brought many long forgotten relatives and distant family who came to the village of Balapila and stayed at their house and the daughter of the muni Nagabhushana slaved for them and took care of them. Kittamutti loved his wife, and also liked himself to the attitude of the most generous, the ancient King of Anga, who was known to have torn off his own ear-rings and the armour that he was born with, when asked for, just before he was to proceed to war. Kittamutti like to be generous to his family but wanted to be able to help his wife and give her some help in the household works. He was always on the search for some suitable help, such as one who would stay in the house and be of support to his wife.

As if in answer to his wishes, came one day, a woman, Kausi, with her three children, from the village of Syamala, from across the river Ganges. She was a very poor woman, and had lost the father of her three children, when he had deserted them. The shock of the disappearance of the father had caused her to cry inconsolably, and had resulted in the gradual loss of her eyesight. A youngish man, Dineshakaara, who was her neighbour at the village of Syamala, had encouraged her to visit Balapila and meet the eye-physician, Vaidya Kittamutti, and seek a cure.

Of late, the poor woman, Kausi, had felt that the young man, Dineshakaara, was beginning to feel affectionate to her and her three children, and it may be possible in the future for her to be married to him and look forward to a secure future. As a result, she agreed with his suggestion, and traveled with her three children to the village of Balapila, in search of the eye-physician. She had had no money with her, jewellery or any other valuables. Dineshakaara had argued that it would be better to travel to Balapila and explore the possibility of a cure rather than to wait for poverty to disappear. She had agreed once again, and was now waiting outside the door of the vaidya Kittamutti, to seek his blessings and cure for her eyes.

Kittamutti came out of his house and saw the woman, Kausi and her three children awaiting him. She begged the vaidya to cure her, and to give her back the wonderful world that she knew of before she had lost her eyesight. In her eagerness, she volunteered to the vaidya Kittamutti that she would work as a slave in his household and would be of help to his wife, of her whom she had heard that she was the daughter of the great muni Nagabhushana. The woman, Kausi, said that she and her three children had no house of her own in the village of Balapila and that she would have no hesitation in staying at the house of the vaidya himself.

This was too tempting for the vaidya Kittamutti. He had been in search of someone to help his wife with the management of the household chores and all the other associated work of taking care of his extended family and relatives who had discovered him anew. He knew of this particular eye problem and knew that he could cure the lady in an instant. And it would work out in his benefit, for if the lady regained her eyesight immediately, she would be able to begin work with his wife in his household. Once again, he asked the woman, Kausi, if she would work for him in his house, if he would cure her and help her regain her eyesight. She agreed very firmly, and seemed all that more determined to keep her promise to work as a slave in his household.

The vaidya Kittamutti applied a particular eye-ointment that he had, and knew that the woman, Kausi, would regain her eyesight at the very instant. Immediately upon application of the ointment, the woman, Kausi, felt the betterment and wonderingly looked around at the world that she was able to see once again. She also saw her children and immediately felt dismayed that she had given her promise to be a slave in the household of the vaidya Kittamutti. Such a life of drudgery and bondage would deny her ability to take care of her children and to lead the life of a family person with the young man, Dineshakaara in the village of Syamala.

She decided that she would try to deceive the vaidya Kittamutti. She turned around and swayed as if in pain, and declared to the vaidya that she was not able to see properly as yet, and she was in terrible pain, and that she would go with her children to the nearby temple, and return later, when the agony would have subsided. The vaidya Kittamutti was surprised. He knew the powers of his medicines. After all, he had learnt at the great Munisangama Ashrama, and he had learnt from the Muni Nagabhushana, and he had seen the immediate cure that the other patients had exhibited. He realized that the woman, Kausi, was lying, and she wanted to escape from her promise to work as a slave in his household and be of help to his wife.

He requested her to wait, and asked her not to worry, and to take another ointment to cure her eyesight properly. And this time, he decided, he would have his revenge at her betrayal. He wanted to punish her for her change of mind and for declaring that his medicine had not helped her. He took out a different ointment this time, and applied it on the eyes of the woman, Kausi. Immediately, the woman screamed in pain, for the ointment was not a cure but was of a medication that caused piercing pain and harm to her eyes, and caused her to go permanently blind this time. The woman shouted out in pain, and realized that she had lost her eyes forever, and that it was due to her betrayal of the word that was given by her.

The woman, Kausi, took her three children, and ran away from the Vaidya Kittamutti. One of the cart drivers of the caravan of the merchant who would be born much later as the Most Enlightened One saw of the entire incident. He was of a curious and studious approach, and that evening, when he met the merchant at Benares, upon return from Balapila, he narrated what he had seen happen. He informed the merchant that he had seen a very poverty-stricken blind woman with her three children and had seen the two faces of betrayal and revenge in very unfortunate terms.

The merchant, who would be born much later as the Most Enlightened One, explained to the cart driver that it was in the mind that evil and goodness are born, and it is in the mind that the attitude is corrupted. He said that it was in the evil inherent in the vaidya Kittamutti, because of his dulled senses due to excessive intake of wine and smoking of drugs that the learned physician could not hold himself back from taking revenge. If he had taken care of himself by staying away from wine and drugs, he would have known to treat the woman with benevolence rather than treat her as an opportunity to enslave her.

It was in the mind of the woman, Kausi, that she felt it necessary to agree to be a slave to the vaidya Kittamutti, and it was in the bondage of her thoughts within her mind to regain her eyesight, that she did not notice the responsibility of her three children that she should not have allowed escape. Again, it was in the mind of the woman that was born the idea that she could betray the eye-physician who had conducted the miracle of helping her regain her eyesight in a very brief instant without having to undergo other medical treatments.

It is the mind that causes action that begets reaction, much like the wheels of the ox-cart that always follows the oxen, and does not allow anyone to escape the consequences of their actions. The vaidya Kittamuni, his wife, the daughter of the muni Nagabhushana, the woman, Kausi, and the muni Nagabhushana himself, had all thought out within their mind, and rationalized that their actions were correct and that they could perhaps escape the consequences of their action. This is not possible, and one should be careful of the thoughts that are mind-made and that beget action and reaction that cannot escape each other. So said, the merchant, who would be reborn much later, as the Most Enlightened One.

Can the blind see better than those who can?

Inspired by the first verse of the Yammaka Vagga (The Twin Verses) of the Dhammapada - "Cakkhupalatthera Vatthu" - Suffering follows the evil-doer

Once upon a time, long long ago, in a place far far away, as all good stories say, at the confluence of two great rivers, below the tall mountains of the Himalayas, before the vast plains of the lands of irrigated crops, was the ashrama of Rangabhashya, the great muni. It was here that more than a thousand monks resided to study under the guidance of the great muni. This was the most sacred of all places when one traveled below the Himalayas, the Munisangama Ashrama. There were other smaller associated ashrams nearby, and these were also under the guidance of the senior monks of Rangabhashya, who had decided at different times, that these monks could go ahead and establish their own gurukuls and residential ashrams.

Most seekers of knowledge came from all over the great land of the Sindhu and the Ganges, from all the big and small kingdoms south of the Himalayas, and from the lands to the west of the great rivers of the Sindhu, and from the lands to the east of the great seas after the mighty Ganges met the Sea near Navadvipa. It was said that Rangabhashya taught from all the major schools of knowledge that was prevalent at that time, but would retreat by himself to be a student when the Most Enlightened One would teach at the nearby monasteries.

The Most Enlightened One would visit the nearby monasteries each year while he traveled to and from the Jetavana Monastery near Sravasti for his annual retreat from the great University along with more than two thousand monks and other students. He taught about the New Way, the aspect of the understanding that provided a new perspective and helped many to start again in their search for knowledge and understanding. Most munis and rishis from other schools of knowledge wondered about the new way, and were keen to know if it ascribed more powers to certain gods or to certain temples and if it denied any approach to their own way of life. This was not so with the great Rangabhashya, who had known about the Most Enlightened One from during his earlier quest to understand the mystery of life and death and the larger world around all humanity.

The Most Enlightened One had halted at a nearby Ashrama, more than thirty monsoons ago, and had sought out the great teachers, and had heard all that they could teach and yet, he had emerged all the more hungry for more knowledge. And then had come the news that there had emerged from nowhere, the same seeker of knowledge, with a new approach to life and living, humanity and approaches to godliness, spirituality and responsibilities that one and all had declared that he was the Most Enlightened One. And he had visited the various ashramas and monasteries nearby, and the great Rangabhashya, had on his own accord joined the other great teachers and welcomed the Most Enlightened One with the honours that would put a King or Emperor to shame. For it was indeed said, that, it was the seeker of knowledge who deserved more honour than a King or Emperor.

The great muni was eagerly awaiting the Most Enlightened One to visit the nearby monastery during the coming monsoon. The senior most munis at the ashrama were very curious at the extent of respect that the great Rangabhashya offered to the Most Enlightened One. They knew that the Most Enlightened One was teaching a different aspect and method to seek knowledge, and that it was almost the paradox of the aspects of knowledge that the great Rangabhashya had himself taught them. They decided to ask the great muni as to why did he accord so much respect to one who taught a different way of knowledge.

The eldest among them, the Muni Nagabhushana and the Muni Shantarama, asked this of the great Rangabhashya, “O great teacher, we bow to you, and offer our respects. We have a question that has been bothering us. With your permission, we would like to ask this from you and seek your guidance.” The great muni smiled, and said, “Of course. But is it only the two of you or is it that the others are afraid to ask the same question of me? Call everyone and let everyone hear.”

The various senior munis assembled in front of the gyaanasthala, the teaching area, of the great Rangabhashya and awaited his presence. The Muni Nagabhushana accompanied the great muni and escorted him to the gyaanasthala, and bade him with great respect to be seated. All the senior munis bowed low to offer their respects and recited the four compulsory prayers before they could request the great muni to speak. Soon it was time, and yet, before they could speak out, it was the great muni who spoke without anyone asking him.

He said, “O munis of this great land below the Himalayas, you who have come from many lands and have been living here for so many years, monsoons and winters alike, I know that you are curious about why I proceed eagerly to learn from the Most Enlightened One, when he visits the nearby monastery. I know that you wonder why I listen to him speak about his new way, when it was he who had visited many great teachers and ashramas before he had decided to continue to search for a new approach to knowledge.”

“He, the Most Enlightened One, has sought knowledge, and when it was given to him by other masters, he had the courage, ability and perseverance to question what he was given. He did not disrespect those who offered him the knowledge, and he did not avoid the strict adherence to the various methods of abstinence. And yet, he did not accept without enquiry, and thereby he remained in wait, for that pure knowledge that I continue to await, as a student, though one and all, you munis at this ashrama, prefer to think of knowledge as that I was able to teach you.”

“And yet, the Most Enlightened One, even upon being able to understand the purest of knowledge, the core of all humanity and its understanding of godliness, he is able to walk among us, with his followers, his sangha, and yet, he is able to convince others without spreading rancour, and is able to discuss with one and all masters of knowledge, without making them want to escape him,” continued the great Rangabhashya, “The Most Enlightened One is able to teach us without comment on what we understand to be knowledge, he is able to share with us without any fear of corruption of our knowledge, and is able to make us understand of what he means to be the most pure of knowledge.”

Not able to contain himself, the Muni Shantarama asked, “O great teacher of our ashrama, you are our only guru, and the only path for us in our life, and we are curious. What is this pure knowledge that you speak of? Are we not seekers too? Are we not in search of the same goal? Do we not try to search for the same aspect of humanity in relation to godliness? You are known as the greatest of all munis in this part of the world, and we know that there are none others, except a very few, who can be better than you in the aspect of knowledge and that of sharing it. And you tell us that the Most Enlightened One is able to teach that aspect of knowledge that you did not know of? What is that aspect that you were not able to learn earlier?”

The great Rangabhashya smiled, and said, “O Shantarama, you are one of my oldest students. I love you as much as I love Nagabhushana. You are my sons, rather than my students, and it is all the more satisfying that you ask questions of me. Is it not that my teaching has been incomplete then? That you question me so? It is the mind within you that questions the knowledge that you have received. The mind precedes all knowables, O Shantarama. The aspect of the mind being purer than the knowledge that you receive is not something that I learnt in my quest for knowledge of so many long years.”

“It was the Most Enlightened One who has taught that one should try and search for knowledge within one’s own mind. For it is said, within our own aspects of knowledge, that to assume that one knows something is to subscribe to bondage of that knowledge. For we accept that what we know, is true. All truth is not true. What we see is not that given to us due to our sight. What we do not see is not because we close our eyes. We may not see something, and yet we may assume it to be true because of knowledge that we have gained. We see something happening, but the knowledge that we have, prevents us from questioning it.”

The Muni Nagabhushana queried, “O great master, pray permit me to ask of you a question. How would one not be able to be responsible for what one sees, and how can one actually be responsible for what one does not see? Can one be held responsible for committing a wrong, if one was not aware of what the consequences would be, and can one be wrong, if by a corrupt action done to help someone, and being aware of the wrongful thought, one does it for achieving the correct result? How would one answer this from what has been taught by the Most Enlightened One, in all the talks at the various monasteries each year, on aspects that are very different from what you teach us?”

The great Rangabhashya replied, “It is not the aspect of assuming that you know an action to be correct or wrong. How can you know? Who are you to decide? What is correct for you now, can be wrong later. What is correct for someone else can be wrong for you, at the same moment of time. So who is correct? The Most Enlightened One spoke of this. They are among those who are the most privileged of those who could hear him speak of such a most difficult aspect of knowledge, in the utmost simplicity. He spoke of it, as one would teach a child. For it is easy to speak of such complex issues through the most complex lesson and expect the student to be smarter than the teacher. Thus, does the teacher escape responsibility of the task of making the student understand what it was that was taught.”

“The Most Enlightened One spoke of a blind monk, Cakkhupala, who had come to visit him when he was residing at the Jetavana Monastery at Sravasti, from a distant land. Knowing him to be blind, and yet to seek knowledge, and to travel across great distances, caused the Most Enlightened One to be affectionate to him and treat him with more obvious kindness. Others who were close to the Most Enlightened One did not appreciate this, and yet they stayed their speech. They were not happy that the Most Enlightened One was kinder and affectionate to the blind Cakkhupala without any obvious disclosure or explanation.”

“They followed the blind monk, Cakkhupala, wherever he went about in the Jetavana Monastery, and one night they saw that he was immersed in his meditation at a certain spot, and that he was pacing up and down at that location. In the morning, when they went to the very location, they found some dead insects on the ground and on the very path that the blind monk had been pacing up and down while immersed in his meditation. These monks immediately presumed that there was opportunity in this happening and that they could complain to the Most Enlightened One of the behaviour of the blind monk. They came to the Most Enlightened One and complained that it was not appropriate of a monk to not be aware that he could have been harmful to these innocent insects, while pacing up and down a garden lawn at night, even if deep in meditation.”

“The Most Enlightened One had explained to the monks who complained, for even I had wondered if the blind monk, Cakkhupala, was at fault. It was not so, he had explained, and said that it was a fact that the other monks had not seen the blind monk kill the insects. Similarly, the blind monk was not aware that he had killed the insects. And more so, the blind monk was not intent-bound on an action to cause the death of the insects, and he had had no intention to do so. It is the intention to be wrong, and it is the intention to be corrupt that causes sorrow due to action, and this is brought about in the mind, inspite of knowledge. And once the action is thought out, sown and further action is reaped, does sorrow – dukha – follow just as the wheels of an ox-cart follow the oxen with each step that it takes forward. It is essential that one is aware of one’s actions, and does not cause those actions to come out of wrongful thoughts or corrupt intentions. So, taught the Most Enlightened One.”

The oxen that pulls the cart

Inspired by the first verse of the Yammaka Vagga (The Twin Verses) of the Dhammapada - "Cakkhupalatthera Vatthu" - Suffering follows the evil-doer

Once upon a time, long long ago, in a place far far away, as all good stories say, in the old village of Satyagriha, very near the town of Sravasti of known fame due to the travels and stay of the Most Enlightened One in these regions, lived a kind and benevolent merchant, Dayaluprema. He had lived his life in the manner required and more, and was thus blessed with dutiful children and their spouses and grandchildren. He had never had a single day of disagreement with the mother of his children, the very kind and generous Bhaavanamata. He had several busineses, including a grain-shop and a dairy farm where he had acquired fame in the region for having been able to breed select varieties of cattle, such as cows for milk and oxen for difficult work.

Dayaluprema was known in the entire region as having a good hand in the aspect of breeding and taking care of cows and oxen and he also had a good business of selling milk at Sravasti. He had also prospered in his grain shop business more so because of his willingness to help the poor and needy, and his readiness to feed the devout at the local temples and also to give alms to the bhikkhus from the holy sanghas that visited his village or the nearby ones.

Dayaluprema fetched the food grains and other stock from various markets and villages around Satyagriha. He would also sell at Sravasti if the price was right and make a healthy profit. He was known to pass on his profit back to the poor farmers who would trust him to fetch a proper price for their produce. In fetching the grains back and forth from the villages, Dayaluprema had an employee called Krodhachalaka, an ox-cart driver, who would take the cart to the various villages and return to Satyagriha and at times travel to Sravasti. Krodhachalaka was a miserable, rude and very violent man, who was always known to be shouting out in the market, scolding the farmers if they would load the produce by taking too much time, and would always use the whip on the two oxen that pulled the ox-cart.

I can tell you many a story about Dayaluprema and Krodhachalaka, and I will do so at a later time. This story is however about the two oxen that pulled the ox-cart that was driven by Krodhachalaka. These oxen were from Dayaluprema’s cattle sheds at Satyagriha and were bron of the cows there. The oxen yoked to Krodhachalaka’s cart were born of two sister-cows in Dayaluprema’s cattle-shed. They were from within an affectionate group of cows and oxen, all related to each other, and were all very fond of Dayaluprema and Bhaavanamata, because of their benevolent nature.

Of the two oxen, one was named Daana, while the other was named Baana. Nearly ten years of age now, the two oxen were very devoted to Dayaluprema and Bhaavanamata. They were always eager to return to the house of Dayaluprema and the cattle sheds. After a hard day’s task of pulling the very heavily laden cart, the two oxen would look forward to relaxing at the cattle shed where they could share the stories of their travels with their mothers and sisters who rarely got an opportunity to venture outside. However, both Daana and Baana took good care to avoid telling their mothers and sisters about the anger and violent behaviour of Krodhachalaka, their cart driver. There would be nothing to gain from making their mothers and sisters sad about their work.

Other oxen and horses and mules at the grain markets saw the ill-treatment, the harsh words, the use of the whip and the stick by Krodhachalaka on Daana and Baana. And, so it was, that it was their own cousin oxen, Seendha and Chottu, yoked to another one of Dayaluprema’s carts, who repeatedly saw the punishment meted out on Daaana and Bhaana. They knew that their brothers would never speak of it to their mothers and sister cows at the cattle sheds of Dayaluprema. But Seendha felt extremely sad at the behaviour of Krodhachaalaka.

Once, at the grain market, Seendha took courage and walked up to Daana and Baana who had been tied to a wooden post near the market well. He came up to his elder brother-oxen and said, “O brother-oxen of my mother’s sister, I know you both to be quite courageous. I know you both to be righteous. I know you both to be faithful to your job. But it pains my heart to see the two of you being whipped by the cart-driver, Krodhachalaka, for no fault of yours. And all the other oxen, horses and mules at this market, see this sort of behaviour daily and yet may not become angry. They do not know you as I do, and I am your younger brother. It pains my heart. Do something, O eldest brother-oxen of us, O Daana. What will our mothers say when they hear of this ill-treatment?”

Daana was a wise ox, and he did see the anguish in his youngest brother-ox, Seendha’s eyes, and went up to him, rubbed alongside him in affection, and said “O youngest brother-ox, Seendha, you are a wise soul and a very noble creature. It is said that once, when you were quite young, just a calf, the Most Enlightened One, who was passing by with his sangha, patted you in appreciation of the fact that you were following him and his monks. You are truly blessed. But, it is not enough that one was close enough to a teacher, one needs to remain steadfast to one’s duties and to one’s responsibilities. It is in Krodhachalaka’s burden that he carries, that he will forever be adding to his burden, with every show of anger, and every stroke of that whip.”

Seendha replied with an impatient toss of his head, “O eldest brother-ox, the Most Enlightened One may have patted me, and I may be truly blessed because of that, but that does not give me freedom from feeling sad, dukha, at what is happening to the both of you, every day at the hands of the mad Krodhachalaka. How long will this continue? I think, tonight, when they would unyoke you from the cart at our cattle-shed, you both can seek blessings of our mothers and escape from this misery. Pretend to be lame or sick. Go away somewhere, for some time, until our master removes this Krodhachalaka, or gets him new oxen. Go and seek your freedom from this ox-cart, from your responsibility to pull this ox-cart.”

The monk, Jaiprakasa Muni, was seated nearby, under the shade of a mango tree. He could understand the language spoken by all domestic creatures, and was also able to talk to them. He had been seated there for quite some time, awaiting the passing of the noon sun, so that he could go into the village to beg for his alms and food. He had seen the angry Krodhachalaka whip the two oxen for no fault of theirs, and he had noted that it was the manner in which the ox-cart driver was adding to his own burden of sorrow by the manner of his attitude and of the harm and sadness and pain that he was causing to the oxen that served him. He was also pleasantly surprised that the eldest brother-ox was so very amazingly perceptive to stay steadfast to his responsibilities. The monk, Jaiprakasa Muni, went near the oxen, and blessed them.

He said, to the oxen, “O soul-brothers of many lives, and blood-brothers of this life of yours, hear me out, for I am blessed that I can speak to all those creatures who work in toil to help humans in their aspect of misery, happiness, evil, goodness and greed and of noble cause. You are to be the textbook from which humanity should have learnt, for it is the ultimate paradox that the cart-driver, Krodhachalaka, is not able to learn. For it is true, that as real as it may be that you are steadfast in your perception of responsibilities, it is also true that you cannot escape the cart, and the whip of the cart-driver, whenever you are tied to the ox-cart. For it is true, that the farther that you walk to escape the cart, the wheels will always be behind you. Every step that you take ahead, the wheel will follow you.”

“It is sad that the cart-driver, Krodhachalaka, while driving the same cart every day, and watching the wheels of the cart follow you with each step, was not able to understand and recognize the aspect of the burden of your actions following you wherever you go, and the fact that given the opportunity of your freedom, you would not be able to escape it, for it is in your attitude to be faithful to your task, that you beget action, and that in turn follows you wherever you would go, whether in work, or if you tried to escape the circle of life. Thus, taught the Most Enlightened One.”

Dhammapada - Yammaka Vagga - Verse 1 - Cakkhupalatthera Vatthu

 

The Dhammapada

Yammaka Vagga

 

Verse 1

Cakkhupalatthera Vatthu

 

Manopubbangama dhamma
manosettha manomaya
manasa ce padutthena
bhasati va karoti va
tato nam dukkhamanveti
cakkamva vahato padam.

 

 

Verse 1

Suffering follows the evil-doer

Mind precedes all knowables,
mind's their chief, mind-made are they.
If with a corrupted mind
one should either speak or act
dukkha follows caused by that,
as does the wheel the ox's hoof.

The mind precedes all situations resulting from thought. Most actions are made from within the mind. If one initiates an action with an evil mind, suffering will follow just as the wheel follows the hoof-print of the ox that draws the cart. Evil thoughts lead to unfortunate circumstances, just as the ox cannot be free of the cart that it pulls. The verse is named after the blind monk, Cakkhupala, whose blindness was explained as the consequence of his having acted with an evil intention in a previous existence. The word ‘dukkha’ depicts suffering, especially mental trauma within the mind.

The story of the blind monk, Thera Cakkhupala was told by the Buddha as the parable to explain the verse depicted as the first of the Yammaka Vagga. I have included the story within another story in an attempt to try and understand. It is said that the Most Enlightened One told the story of Thera Cakkhupala while at the Jetavana Monastery at Sravasti, on a day when the discourse was being listened to by more than forty thousand of the Sangha, and that at the end, nearly thirty thousand bhikkhus attained arahat status together with patisambhida (analytical insight).        

The verse and the specific parable are sourced from the following references (28 October 2009) –

1. http://www.tipitaka.net/tipitaka/dhp/verseload.php?verse=001

2. http://www.buddhanet.net/dhammapada/d_twin.htm

3. http://www.sacred-texts.com/bud/sbe10/index.htm - The Dhammapada. Translated from the Pali by F. Max Muller. 1881. Volume X – The Sacred Books of the East. The Clarendon Press, Oxford.

Arahat or arahants = are described as buddhanubuddha, those who have attained enlightenment after the Buddha.

Bhikkhu (male), Bhikkhuni (female) = Ordained monks, usually Buddhist monks.