                                          
                BUDDHIST WOMEN AT THE TIME OF THE BUDDHA
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                   by
                            Hellmuth Hecker
                                          
                     Translated from the German by
                              Sister Khema
                                          
                                          
                                          
                   The Wheel Publication No. 292/293
                                          
                      BUDDHIST PUBLICATION SOCIETY
                      KANDY              SRI LANKA
                                          
              Copyright 1982 Buddhist Publication Society
                                          
                             ISSN 0049-7541
                                          
                                 * * *
                                          
                         DharmaNet Edition 1994
                                          
        This electronic edition is offered for free distribution
            via DharmaNet by arrangement with the publisher.
                                          
                                          
                        DharmaNet International
                 P.O. Box 4951, Berkeley CA 94704-4951
                                          
                Transcribed for DharmaNet by Raj Mendis
                                          
                                          
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                                CONTENTS
  
      Foreword
      
      Abbreviations
      
      The Verses of Final Knowledge of Bhikkhuni Sujata

      Queen Mallika

      What Cannot Be Got: The Buddha's Words to King Pasenadi on Queen
                 Mallika's Death

      Khema of Great Wisdom
      
      Bhadda Kundalakesa, the former Jain Ascetic
      
      Kisagotami, the Mother with the Dead Child
      
      Sona, With Many Children
      
      Nanda, the Half-sister of the Awakened One
      
      Queen Samavati
      
      Patacara, Preserver of the Vinaya
      
      
      Changes Made During Transcription
      
      About the BPS
      
      Distribution Agreement
       
  
  
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                                FOREWORD
                                          
                                          
       The following stories, written by Hellmuth Hecker, have been 
   translated from the German Buddhist magazine, "Wissen and Wandel", 
   XVIII 3 (1972), XXLI 1/2 (1976). They are published here with their 
   kind permission.
       
       While every effort has been made by the translator to conform to 
   the original writing, some changes had to be made for the sake of 
   clarity.
       
       The stories of Bhadda Kundalakesa and Patacara have been enlarged 
   and filled in.
       
       Grateful acknowledgment is made to Ven. Khantipalo for his 
   assistance in improving the style and content of this narrative. His 
   new translations of verses of the Therigatha and the Dhammapada from 
   the original Pali have helped to make these stories come alive.
       
       It is hoped that this booklet will serve as an inspiration to all 
   those who are endeavoring to tread in the Buddha's footsteps.
  
                                                                Sister Khema
  
  Wat Buddha Dhamma
  Wisemans Ferry, N.S.W.2255
  Australia
  January 1982
                                          
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                   ABBREVIATIONS OF SOURCE REFERENCES
  
  
            A    : Anguttara-Nikaya
            D    : Digha-Nikaya
            Dhp  : Dhammapada
            M    : Majjhima-Nikaya
            S    : Samyutta-Nikaya
            Sn   : Sutta-Nipata
            Thag : Theragatha
            Thig : Therigatha
            Pac. : Pacittiya (Vinaya)
            J.   : Jataka
            Ud.  : Udana
            Mil. : Milindapanha
            Jtm. : Jatakamala
            Bu.  : Buddhavamsa
            Divy.: Divyavadana
            Ap.  : Apadana
            
            
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                     THE VERSES OF FINAL KNOWLEDGE
                                          
                          OF BHIKKHUNI SUJATA
  
  
           With subtle veils adorned,
           Garlands and sandal-wood bedecked,
           Covered all over with ornaments,
           Surrounded by my servants,
           Taking with us food and drink,
           Eatables of many kinds,
           Setting off from the house,
           To the forest grove we took it all.
           
           Having enjoyed and sported there,
           We turned our feet to home
           But on the way I saw and entered
           Near Saketa, a monastery,.
           Seeing the Light of the World
           I drew near, bowed down to Him;
           Out of compassion the Seeing One
           Then taught me Dhamma there.
           
           Hearing the words of the Great Sage,
           I penetrated Truth:
           The Dhamma passionless,
           I touched the Dhamma of Deathlessness.
           When the True Dhamma had been known,
           I went forth to the homeless life;
           The three True Knowledges are attained,
           Not empty the Buddha's Teaching!
           
                                             (Therigatha 145-150)
                                          Verses of the Elder nuns.
                                          
                                          
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                             QUEEN MALLIKA
  
  
       At the time of the Buddha, a daughter was born to the foreman of 
   the guild of garland-makers in Savatthi. She was beautiful, clever 
   and well behaved and a source of joy to her father.
       
       One day, when she had just turned sixteen, she went to the public 
   flower gardens with her girl-friends and took three portions of 
   fermented rice along in her basket as the day's sustenance.
       
       When she was just leaving by the city gate, a group of monks came 
   along, who had come down from the monastery on the hill to obtain 
   almsfood in town. The leader among them stood out; one whose 
   grandeur and sublime beauty impressed her so much, that she 
   impulsively offered him all the food in her basket.
       
       He was the Awakened One. He let her put her offering into his 
   alms bowl. After Mallika -- without knowing to whom she had given 
   the food -- had prostrated at his feet, she walked on full of joy. 
   The Buddha smiled. Ananda, his attendant, who knew that the fully 
   Enlightened One does not smile without a reason, asked therefore why 
   he was smiling. The Buddha replied that this girl would reap the 
   benefits of her gift this very same day by becoming the Queen of 
   Kosala.
       
       This sounded unbelievable, because how could the Maharaja of 
   Benares and Kosala elevate a woman of low caste to the rank of 
   Queen? Especially in the India of those days with its very strict 
   caste system, this seemed quite improbable.
       
       The ruler over the United Kingdoms of Benares and Kosala in the 
   Ganges Valley was King Pasenadi, the mightiest Maharaja of his day. 
   At that time he was at war with his neighbor, the King of Magadha.
       
       The latter had won a battle and King Pasenadi had been forced to 
   retreat. He was returning to his capital on the horse that had been 
   his battle companion. Before entering the city, he heard a girl sing 
   in the flower gardens. It was Mallika, who was singing melodiously 
   because of her joy in meeting the Illustrious Sage. The King was 
   attracted by the song and rode into the gardens; Mallika did not run 
   away from the strange warrior, but came nearer, took the horse by 
   its reins and looked straight into the King's eyes. He asked her 
   whether she was already married and she replied in the negative. 
   Thereupon he dismounted, lay down with his head in her lap and let 
   her console him about his ill-luck in battle.
       
       After he had recovered, he let her mount his horse behind him and 
   took her back to the house of her parents. In the evening he sent an 
   entourage with much pomp to fetch her and made her his principal 
   wife and Queen.
       
       From then on she was dearly beloved by the King. She was given 
   many loyal servants and in her beauty she resembled a goddess. It 
   became known throughout the whole kingdom that because of her simple 
   gift she had been elevated to the highest position in the State and 
   this induced her subjects to be kind and generous towards their 
   fellow men. Wherever she went, people would joyously proclaim: "That 
   is Queen Mallika, who gave alms to the Buddha." (J 415E)
       
       After she had become Queen, she soon went to visit the 
   Enlightened One to ask him something which was puzzling her. Namely, 
   how it came about that one woman could be beautiful, wealthy and of 
   great ability, another be beautiful but poor and not very able, yet 
   another although ugly, be rich and very able, and finally another be 
   ugly, poor and possess no skills at all.
       
       These differences can constantly be observed in daily life. But 
   while the ordinary person is satisfied with such common place terms 
   as fate, heredity, coincidence and so on, Queen Mallika wanted to 
   probe deeper as she was convinced that nothing happens without a 
   cause.
       
       The Buddha explained to her in great detail that all attributes 
   and living conditions of people everywhere were solely dependent on 
   the extent of their moral purity. Beauty was caused by forgiveness 
   and gentleness, prosperity due to generous giving, and skillfulness 
   was caused by never envying others, but rather being joyful and 
   supporting their abilities.
       
       Whichever of these three virtues a person had cultivated, that 
   would show up as their "destiny", usually in some mixture of all of 
   them. The coming together of all three attributes would be a rarity. 
   After Mallika had listened to this discourse of the Buddha, she 
   resolved in her heart to be always gentle towards her subjects and 
   never to scold them, to give alms to all monks, brahmins and the 
   poor, and never to envy anyone who was happy.
       
       At the end of the Enlightened One's discourse she took refuge in 
   the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha and remained a faithful disciple for 
   the rest of her life. (A IV, 197)
       
       She showed her great generosity not only giving regular alms, but 
   also by building a large, ebony-lined hall for the Sangha, which was 
   used for religious discussions. (M 78, D 9)
       
       She exhibited her gentleness by serving her husband with the five 
   qualities of a perfect wife, namely: always rising before  him, and 
   going to bed after him, by always obeying his commands, always being 
   polite, and using only kind words. Even the monks praised her 
   gentleness in their discussions about virtue.
       
       Soon she was to prove that she was also free of jealousy. The 
   King had made up his mind to marry a second chief wife and brought a 
   cousin of the Buddha home as his betrothed. Although it is said that 
   it is in the nature of women not to allow a rival into her home, 
   Mallika related to the other wife without the slightest malice. (A 
   VI, 52) Both women lived in peace and harmony at the Court.
       
       Even when the second wife gave birth to a son, the crown prince, 
   and Mallika had only a daughter, she was not envious. When the King 
   voiced disappointment about the birth of a daughter, the Buddha said 
   to him that a woman was superior to a man if she was clever, 
   virtuous, well-behaved and faithful. Then she could become the wife 
   of a great King and give birth to an almighty Ruler. (S 3,16) When 
   the daughter, Princess Vajira, had grown up, she became Queen of 
   Magadha and thereby the ancestress of the greatest Indian Emperor, 
   Asoka, who ruled Magadha 250 years later.
       
       After Mallika had become a faithful lay devotee of the Buddha, 
   she also won her husband over to the teaching. And that happened in 
   this way: One night the King had a succession of sixteen perturbing 
   dreams during which he heard gruesome, unfathomable sounds from four 
   voices, which uttered: "//Du, Sa, Na, So.//" When the King woke up 
   from these dreams, great fear seized him, and sitting upright and 
   trembling, he awaited the sunrise.
       
       When his Brahmin priests asked him whether he had slept well, he 
   related the terror of the night and asked them what one could do to 
   counteract such a menace. The Brahmins declared that one would have 
   to offer great sacrifices and thereby pacify the evil spirits. In 
   his fear the King agreed to that. The Brahmins rejoiced because of 
   the gifts they would surely reap and busily began to make 
   preparations for the great sacrifice. They scurried about, building 
   a sacrificial altar and tied many animals to posts, so they could be 
   killed.
       
       For greater efficacy, they demanded the sacrifice of four human 
   beings and these also awaited their death, tied to posts. When 
   Mallika became aware of all this activity, she went to the King and 
   asked him why the Brahmins were so busily running about full of 
   joyous expectation. The King replied that she did not pay enough 
   attention to him and did not know his sorrows. 
       
       Thereupon he told her of his dreams. Mallika asked the King 
   whether he had also consulted the first and foremost of Brahmins 
   about the meaning and interpretation. He replied that she first had 
   to tell him who was the first and foremost of Brahmins. She 
   explained that the Awakened One was foremost in the world of Gods 
   and men, the first of all Brahmins. King Pasenadi decided to ask the 
   Awakened One's advice and went to Prince Jeta's Grove, 
   Anathapindika's Monastery.
       
       He related to the Buddha what had taken place in his dreams and 
   asked him what would happen to him. "Nothing," the Awakened One 
   replied and explained the meaning to him. The sixteen dreams which 
   he had were prophecies, showing that the living conditions on earth 
   would deteriorate steadily, due to the increasing moral laxity of 
   the kings. In a meditative moment, King Pasenadi had been able to 
   see future occurrences within his sphere of interest because he was 
   a monarch concerned with the well-being of his subjects.
       
       The four voices which he had heard belonged to four men who had 
   lived in Savatthi and had been seducers of married women. Because of 
   that they were reborn in hell and for 30,000 years they drowned in 
   red-hot cauldrons, coming nearer and nearer to the fire, which 
   intensified their unbearable suffering. During another 30,000 years 
   they slowly rose up in those iron cauldrons and had now come to the 
   rim, where they could once again at least breathe the air of the 
   human realm.
       
       Each one wanted the speak a verse, but because of the gravity of 
   the deed, could not get past the first syllable. Not even in sights 
   could they voice their suffering, because they had long lost the 
   gift of speech. The four verses, which start in Pali with "//du//", 
   "//sa//", "//na//", "//so//", were recognized by the Awakened One as 
   follows:
       
          //Du// Dung-like life we lived,
                 No willingness to give,
                 Although we could have given much,
                 We did not make our refuge thus.
           
          //Sa// Say, the end is near?
                 Already 60,000 years have gone
                 Without respite the torture is
                 In this hell realm.
           
          //Na// Naught, no end near, Oh, would it end!
                 No end in sight for us.
                 Who once did misdeeds here
                 For me, for you, for both of us.
           
          //So// So, could I only leave this place
                 And raise myself to human realm,
                 I would be kind and moral too,
                 And do good deeds abundantly.
  
       After the King had heard these explanations, he became responsive 
   to the request of the compassionate Queen and granted freedom to the 
   imprisoned men and animals. He ordered the sacrificial altar to be 
   destroyed. (J 77 & 314)
       
       The King, who had become a devoted lay disciple of the Buddha, 
   visited him one day again and met a wise and well-learned layman 
   there. The King asked him whether he could give some daily Dhamma 
   teaching to his two Queens. The layman replied that the teaching 
   came from the Enlightened One and only one of his immediate 
   disciples could pass it on to the Queens. The King understood this 
   and requested the Buddha to give permission to one of his monks to 
   teach. The Buddha appointed Ananda for this task. Queen Mallika 
   learned easily in spite of her uneducated background, but Queen 
   Vasabhakhattiya, cousin of the Buddha and mother of the 
   crown-prince, was unconcentrated and learned with difficulty. (Pac 
   3)
       
       One day the royal couple looked down upon the river from the 
   palace and saw a group of the Buddha's monks playing about in the 
   water. The king said to Queen Mallika reproachfully: "Those playing 
   about in the water are supposed to be Saints?" Such was namely the 
   reputation of this group of the so-called seventeen monks, who were 
   quite young and of good moral conduct. Mallika replied that she 
   could only explain it thus, that either the Buddha had not made any 
   rules with regard to bathing or that the monks were not acquainted 
   with them, because they were not amongst the rules which were 
   recited regularly.
       
       Both agreed that it would not make a good impression on lay 
   people and on those monks not yet secure, if those in higher 
   training played about in the water and enjoyed themselves in the way 
   of untrained worldly people. But King Pasenadi wanted to avoid 
   blackening those monks' characters and just wanted to give the 
   Buddha a hint, so that he could lay down a firm rule. He conceived 
   the idea to send a special gift to the Buddha to be taken by those 
   monks. They brought the gift and the Buddha asked them on what 
   occasion they had met the King. Then they told him what they had 
   done and the Buddha laid down a corresponding rule. (Pac. 53)
  
       One day when the King was standing on the parapet of the palace 
   with the Queen and was looking down upon the land, he asked her 
   whether there was anyone in the world she loved more than herself. 
   He expected her to name him, since he flattered himself to have been 
   the one who had raised her to fame and fortune. But although she 
   loved him, she remained truthful and replied that she know of no one 
   dearer to herself than herself. Then she wanted to know how it was 
   with him: Did he love anyone -- possibly her -- more than himself? 
   Thereupon the King also had to admit that self-love was always 
   predominant. But he went to the Buddha and recounted the 
   conversation to find out how a Saint would consider this.
                   
       The Buddha confirmed his and Mallika's statements:
       
           I visited all quarters with my mind
           Nor found I any dearer than myself;
           Self is likewise to every other dear;
           Who loves himself may never harm another.
                                                               (Ud 47)
                                         (Translated by Ven. Nanamoli)
  
       One day the Buddha said to a man whose child had died: "Dear 
   ones, those who are dear, bring sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief and 
   despair" -- the suffering that results from a clinging love. In 
   spite of the clearly visible proof, the man could not understand 
   this. The conversation was reported to the King and he asked his 
   wife whether it was really true that sorrow would result from love. 
   "If the Awakened One has said so, O King, then it is so," she 
   replied devotedly.
       
       The King demurred that she accepted every word of the Buddha like 
   a disciple from a guru. Thereupon she sent a messenger to the Buddha 
   to ask for more details and then passed the explicit answer on to 
   her husband. 
       
       She asked him whether he loved his daughter, his second wife, the 
   crown-prince, herself and his kingdom? Naturally he confirmed this, 
   these five things were dear to him. But if something happened to 
   these five, Mallika responded, would he not feel sorrow, 
   lamentation, pain, grief or despair, which comes from loving? Then 
   the King understood and realized how wisely the Buddha could 
   penetrate all existence: "Very well, then Mallika, continue to 
   venerate him." And the King rose, uncovered his shoulder, prostrated 
   deferentially in the direction where the Blessed One was wont to 
   stay and greeted him three times with: "Homage to the Blessed One, 
   the Holy One, the fully Awakened One."
       
       But their lives also did not remain quite without conflict. One 
   day an argument arose between the couple about the duties of the 
   Queen. For some reason the King was angry at her and treated her 
   from then on as if she had disappeared into thin air. When the 
   Buddha arrived at the palace the next day for his meal, he asked 
   about the Queen, who had always been present at other times. 
   Pasenadi scowled and said: "What about her? She has gone mad because 
   of her fame." The Buddha replied that he, himself, had raised her up 
   to that position quite unexpectedly and should become reconciled 
   with her. Somewhat reluctantly the King had her called. Thereupon 
   the Buddha praised the blessing of amity and the anger was 
   forgotten, as if it had never happened. (J 306)
  
       But later on a new tension arose between the couple. Again the 
   King would not look at the Queen and pretended she did not exist. 
   When the Buddha became aware of this, he asked about her. Pasenadi 
   said that her good fortune had gone to her head. Immediately the 
   Awakened One told an incident from a former life:
  
       Both were then heavenly beings, a deva couple, who loved each 
   other dearly. One night they were separated from each other because 
   of the flooding of a stream. They both regretted this irretrievable 
   night, which could never be replaced during their life-span of a 
   thousand years. And during the rest of their lives they never let go 
   of each other's company and always remembered to use this separation 
   as a warning so that their happiness would endure during that whole 
   existence. The King was moved by this story, and became reconciled 
   to the Queen. Mallika then spoke this verse to the Buddha:
  
           With joy I heard your varied words,
           Which spoken were for my well-being;
           With your talk you took away my sorrow
           Verily, you are the joy-bringer amongst the ascetics
           May you live long!
                                                                  (J504)
  
       A third time the Buddha told of an occurrence during one of the 
   former lives of the royal couple. At that time Pasenadi was a 
   crown-prince and Mallika his wife. When the crown-prince became 
   afflicted with leprosy and could not become King because of that, he 
   resolved to withdraw into the forest by himself, so as not to become 
   a burden to anyone. But his wife did not desert him, and looked 
   after him with touching attention. She resisted the temptation to 
   lead a care-free life in pomp and splendor and remained faithful to 
   her ugly and ill-smelling husband. Through the power of her virtue 
   she was able to effect his recovery. When he ascended to the throne 
   and she became his Queen, he promptly forgot her and enjoyed himself 
   with various dancing girls. It is almost as difficult to find a 
   grateful person, the Buddha said, as it is difficult to find a Holy 
   One. (A III, 122)
  
       Only when the King was reminded of the good deeds of his Queen, 
   did he change his ways, asked her forgiveness and lived together 
   with her in harmony and virtue. (J 519)
       
       Queen Mallika committed only one deed in this life which had evil 
   results and which led her to the worst rebirth. Immediately after 
   her death, she was reborn in hell, though this lasted only a few 
   days.
       
       When she died, the King was just listening to a Dhamma 
   exhortation by the Buddha. When the news reached him there, he was 
   deeply shaken and even the Buddha's reminder that there was nothing 
   in the world that could escape old age, disease, death, decay and 
   destruction could not immediately assuage his grief. (A V,49)
       
       His attachment -- "from love comes sorrow" -- was so strong, that 
   he went to the Buddha every day to find out about the future destiny 
   of his wife. If he had to get along without her on earth, at least 
   he wanted to know about her rebirth. But for seven days the Buddha 
   distracted him from his question through fascinating and moving 
   Dhamma discourses, so that he only remembered his question when he 
   arrived home again. Only on the seventh day would the Buddha answer 
   his question and said that Mallika had been reborn in the "Heaven of 
   the Blissful Devas". He did not mention the seven days she had spent 
   in hell, so as not to add to the King's sorrow. Even though it was a 
   very short-termed sojourn in the lower realms, one can see that 
   Mallika had not yet attained stream-entry [*] during her life on 
   earth, since it is one of the signs of a Stream-enterer that there 
   is no rebirth below the human state. However, this experience of 
   hellish suffering together with her knowledge of Dhamma, could have 
   quickened Mallika's last ripening for the attainment of 
   stream-entry.
  
   * [Stream-entry: the first stage of Enlightenment, where the first 
   glimpse of Nibbana is gained and the first three fetters abandoned.]
  
  
  Sources:  M 87; A V,49, IV, 197, VIII, 91;
            S 3,8 = Ud V,I; S 3, 16;
            J 77, 306, 314, 415, 504, 519; Pac. 53,83;
            Mil. 115, 291; Jtm. 3; Divy, p.88
                                          
                                          
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                           WHAT CANNOT BE GOT
                                          
     The Buddha's Words to King Pasenadi on Queen Mallika's Death.
                                          
                                          
       At one time the Lord was staying near Savatthi at Jeta Grove, 
   Anathapindika's Monastery. Then King Pasenadi of Kosala approached 
   the Lord and having done so, paid his respects and sat down nearby. 
   Now at that time Queen Mallika died. A certain man then approached 
   the King and whispered in his ear: "Your Majesty, Queen Mallika has 
   died." At those words king Pasenadi was filled with grief and 
   depression, and with shoulders drooping, head down, he sat glum, and 
   with nothing to say. The Lord saw the king sitting there like that 
   and spoke to him in this way:
       
       "Great king, there are these five circumstances not-to-be-got by 
   monk, brahmin, deva, Mara, Brahma, or by anyone in the world. What 
   are the five?
       
       That what is of the nature to decay may not decay, is a 
   circumstance not-to-be-got by a monk...or by anyone in the world. 
   That what is of the nature to be diseased may not be diseased, is a 
   circumstance not-to-be-got by a monk...or by anyone in the world.
       
       That what is of the nature to die may not die, is a circumstance 
   not-to-be-got by a monk...or by anyone in the world.
       
       That what is of the nature to be exhausted may not be exhausted, 
   is a circumstance not-to-be-got by a monk...or by anyone in the 
   world.
       
       That what is of the nature to be destroyed may not be destroyed, 
   is a circumstance, not-to-be-got by a monk...or by anyone in the 
   world.
       
       Great king, for an uninstructed ordinary person what is of the 
   nature to decay does decay, what is of the nature to be diseased 
   does become diseased, what is of the nature to die does die, what is 
   of the nature to be exhausted is exhausted and what is of the nature 
   to be destroyed is destroyed -- and when these things happen to him 
   he does not reflect, "It's not only for me that what is of the 
   nature to decay decays...that what is of the nature to be destroyed 
   is destroyed, but wherever there are beings, coming and going, dying 
   and being born, for all those beings what is of the nature to decay 
   decays...what is of the nature to be destroyed is destroyed, and if 
   I, when there is decay in what is of the nature to decay...when 
   there is destruction in what is of the nature to be destroyed, 
   should grieve, pine, and lament, and crying beat the breast and so 
   fall into delusion, food would not be enjoyed, my body would become 
   haggard, work would not be done and enemies would be pleased, while 
   friends would be depressed. Then, when there is decay in what is of 
   the nature to decay, disease in what is of the nature to be 
   diseased, death in what is of the nature to die, exhaustion in what 
   is of the nature to be exhausted, destruction in what is of the 
   nature to be destroyed, he grieves, pines and laments, and crying 
   beats his breast and so falls into delusion.
       
       This is called an uninstructed ordinary person; pierced by the 
   poisoned dart of grief, he just torments himself. Great king, for 
   the instructed Noble Disciple what is of the nature to decay does 
   decay... and what is of the nature to be destroyed is 
   destroyed...and when these things happen to him he does reflect, 
   "It's not only for me that what is of the nature to decay 
   decays...that what is of the nature to be destroyed, is destroyed, 
   but wherever there are beings, coming and going, dying and being 
   born, for all those beings what is of the nature to decay 
   decays...what is of the nature to be destroyed is destroyed, and if 
   I, when there is decay in what is of the nature to decay...when 
   there is destruction in what is of the nature to be destroyed, 
   should grieve, pine and lament, and crying beat the breast and so 
   fall into delusion, food would not be enjoyed, my body would become 
   haggard, work would not be done and enemies would be pleased while 
   friends would be depressed. Then when there is decay in what is of 
   the nature to decay, disease in what is of the nature to be 
   diseased, death in what is of the nature to die, exhaustion in what 
   is of the nature to be exhausted, destruction in what is of the 
   nature to be destroyed, he does not grieve or pine or lament, he 
   does not beat his breast and fall into delusion.
       
       This is called an instructed Noble Disciple. Drawn out is the 
   poisoned dart of grief with which the uninstructed ordinary person 
   torments himself. Free of grief, free from the dart, the Noble 
   Disciple has quenched [*] himself completely.
       
   * [Or "become cool" literally "nibban-ered".]
       
       
       Great king, these are the five circumstances not-to-be-got by 
   monk, brahmin, deva, Mara, Brahma, or by anyone in the world.
  
  
           Do not grieve, nor should you lament.
           Here, what good is gained? -- none at all indeed,
           and enemies rejoice to see that grief and pain.
           But when misfortunes do not shake the wise -- 
           that one who knows well how to seek the good,
           then enemies because of that are pained
           seeing his face as formerly, not strained.
           Where and whatever good may gotten, be 
           there and just there he should try for that
           by study, wisdom and well-spoken words,
           unpracticed so far, and tradition, too.
           But if he knows: "This good can be got
           Neither by me nor any other too"
           then ungrieving he should bear it all (and think),
           "Now how to use my strength for present work?"
  
                                  //Anguttara Nikaya//, (Fives, 49)
  
  
                            * * * * * * * *
  
  
  
  
                         KHEMA OF GREAT WISDOM
  
  
       Just as there were two foremost disciples in the order of monks, 
   namely Sariputta and Moggallana, likewise the Buddha named two women 
   as foremost amongst nuns, namely Uppalavanna and Khema.
       
       The name //Khema// means well-settled or composed or security and 
   is a synonym for Nibbana. The nun Khema belonged to a royal family 
   from the land of Magadha. When she was of marriageable age, she 
   became one of the chief consorts of King Bimbisara. As beautiful as 
   her appearance was, equally beautiful was her life as the wife of an 
   Indian Maharaja.
       
       When she heard about the Buddha from her husband, she became 
   interested, but she had a certain reluctance to become involved with 
   his teaching. She felt that the teaching would run counter to her 
   life of sense-pleasures and indulgences. The king, however, knew how 
   he could influence her to listen to the teaching. He described at 
   length the harmony, the peace and beauty of the monastery in the 
   Bamboo Grove, where the Buddha stayed frequently. Because she loved 
   beauty, harmony and peace, she was persuaded to visit there.
       
       Decked out in royal splendor with silk and sandalwood, she went 
   to the monastery. The Exalted One spoke to her and explained the law 
   of impermanence of all conditioned beauty to her. She penetrated 
   this sermon fully and still dressed in royal garments, she attained 
   to enlightenment. Just like the monk, Mahakappina -- a former king 
   -- she likewise became liberated through the power of the Buddha's 
   words while still dressed in the garments of the laity. With her 
   husband's permission she joined the Order of Nuns. Such an 
   attainment, almost like lightning, is only possible however where 
   the seed of wisdom has long been ripening and virtue is fully 
   matured.
       
       An ordinary person, hearing Khema's story, only sees the wonder 
   of the present happening. A Buddha can see beyond this and knows 
   that this woman did not come to full liberation accidentally. It 
   came about like this: In former times when a Buddha appeared in the 
   world, then Khema in those past lives also appeared near him, or so 
   it has been recounted. Due to her inner attraction towards the 
   highest Truth, she always came to birth wherever the bearer and 
   proclaimer of such Truth lived. It is said that already innumerable 
   ages ago she had sold her beautiful hair to give alms to the Buddha 
   Padumuttara. During the time of the Buddha Vipassi, ninety-one eons 
   ago, she had been a teacher of Dhamma. Further it is told, that 
   during the three Buddhas of our happy eon, which were previous to 
   our Buddha Gautama, she was a lay disciple and gained happiness 
   through building monasteries for the Sangha.
       
       While most beings mill around heaven or hell realms during the 
   life-time of a Buddha, Khema always tried to be near the source of 
   wisdom. When there was no Buddha appearing in the world, she would 
   be reborn at the time of Pacceka-Buddhas or Bodhisattas. In one 
   birth she was the wife of the Bodhisatta, who always exhorted his 
   peaceful family like this:
  
           According to what you have got, give alms;
           Observe the Uposatha days, keep the precepts pure;
           Dwell upon the thought of death and be mindful of your mortal 
                 state.
           For in the case of beings like ourselves, death is certain, 
                 life is uncertain;
           All existing things are transitory and subject to decay.
           Therefore be heedful of your ways day and night.
           
       One day Khema's only son in this life was suddenly killed by the 
   bite of a poisonous snake, yet she was able to keep total 
   equanimity:
  
       Uncalled he hither came, without leave departed, too;
       Even as he came, he went. What cause is here for woe?
       No friend's lament can touch the ashes of the  dead:
       Why should I grieve? He fares the way he had to tread.
       Though I should fast and weep, how would it profit me?
       My kith and kin, alas! would more unhappy be.
       No friend's lament can touch the ashes of the dead:
       Why should I grieve? He fares the way he had to tread.
                                                          (J 354)
  
       Another time -- so it is told -- she was she daughter-in-law of 
   the Bodhisatta (J 397), many times a great Empress who dreamt about 
   receiving teaching from the Bodhisatta and then actually was taught 
   by him (J 501,502,534). It is further recounted that as a Queen she 
   was always the wife of he who was later Sariputta, who said about 
   her:
  
           Of equal status is the wife,
           Obedient, speaking only loving words,
           With children, beauty, fame, garlanded,
           She always listens to my words.
                                                          (J 502,534)
       
       
       This husband in former lives was a righteous king, who upheld the 
   ten royal virtues: Generosity, morality, renunciation, truthfulness, 
   gentleness, patience, amity, harmlessness, humility, justice. 
   Because of these virtues the king lived in happiness and bliss. 
   Khema, too, lived in accordance with these precepts. (J 534)
       
       Only because Khema had already purified her heart and perfected 
   it in these virtues, in many past lives she was now mature enough 
   and had such pure and tranquil emotions, that she could accept the 
   ultimate Truth in the twinkling of an eye.
       
       The Buddha praised her as the nun foremost in wisdom. A story 
   goes with that: King Pasenadi was traveling through his country, and 
   one evening he arrived at a small township. He felt like having a 
   conversation about Dhamma and ordered a servant to find out whether 
   there was a wise ascetic or priest in the town. The servant sounded 
   everyone out, but could not find anyone whom his master could 
   converse with. He reported this to the King and added that a nun of 
   the Buddha lived in the town.
       
       It was the saintly Khema, who was famed everywhere for her wisdom 
   and known to be clever, possessing deep insight, had heard much 
   Dhamma, and was a speaker of renown, knowing always the right 
   retort. Thereupon the king went to the former Queen, greeted her 
   with respect and had the following conversation with her:
       
           P.:   Does an Awakened One exist after death?
           K.:   The Exalted One has not declared that an Awakened
                   One exists after death.
           P.:   Then an Awakened One does not exist after death?
           K.:   That too, the Exalted One has not declared.
           P.:   Then the Awakened One exists after death and does
                   not exist?
           K.:   Even that, the Exalted One has not declared.
           P.:   Then one must say, the Awakened One neither exists
                   nor not exists after death?
           K.:   That too, the Exalted One has not declared.
       
       Thereupon the King wanted to know why the Buddha had rejected 
   these four questions. First we must try to understand what these 
   questions imply. The first question corresponds with the view of all 
   those beings whose highest goal is to continue on after death, 
   spurred on by craving for existence. The answer that an Awakened One 
   continues to exist after death, is the one given by all other 
   religions, including later interpretations of Buddhism.
       
       The second answer that the Enlightened One does not exist after 
   death would be in keeping with craving for non-existence, i.e. 
   annihilation.
       
       Because of an urge for definite knowledge and certainly, a 
   definition is sought which could claim that the five aggregates 
   (//khandha//) of form, feeling, perception, mental formations and 
   consciousness -- which make up the sum total of all existence -- are 
   completely dissolved and disappear upon the shedding of an Awakened 
   One's body; and that deliverance consisted in that mere fact of 
   dissolution.
       
       The third answer seeks a compromise: everything impermanent in an 
   Awakened One would be annihilated, but the permanent aspect, the 
   essence, his actual person, would remain.
       
       The fourth answer tries to get out of the predicament by 
   formulating a "neither-nor" situation, which is meant to be 
   satisfying. [*] All four formulas have been rejected by the Buddha 
   as wrong view. They all presuppose that there is an "I" distinct 
   from the world, while in reality "I" and "world" are part of the 
   experience which arises because of consciousness.
  
   * [This "solution" is formulated with the idea that it is something 
   that words/concepts cannot describe, but it still uses "exist" "not 
   exist" and so was not accepted by the Buddha.]
  
  
       Only the Enlightened Ones can actually see this or those who have 
   been their disciples, and unless this understanding is awakened, the 
   assumption is made that an "I", and essentially permanent "self", is 
   wandering through samsara, [*] gradually ascending higher and higher 
   until it is dissolved, which is liberation; this is a belief held by 
   some. Others conclude from this, that the Buddha teaches the 
   destruction of the "self". But the Buddha teaches that there is no 
   "I" or "self", which can be destroyed, that it has never existed and 
   has never wandered through samsara.
  
   * [Samsara: The rounds of birth and death, continually recurring.]
       
       What we call "I" and what we call "world" are in reality a 
   constantly changing process, always in flux, which always throws up 
   the illusion of "I" and "world" born in the present and speculated 
   upon in the past and future. The way to liberation is to stop 
   speculating about the "I", to become free from habitual views and 
   formulas, and come to the end of the mind's illusory conjuring.
       
       Not through increasing the thought processes about phenomena, but 
   through mindfulness of the arising of phenomena, which leads to 
   reducing the chatter in the mind, can liberation be attained. 
   Everything we see, hear, smell, taste, touch and think, anything 
   that can be contained in consciousness, no matter how wide-ranging 
   and pure it is, has arisen due to causes; therefore it is 
   impermanent and subject to decay and dissolution.
       
       Everything which is subject to decay and change is not-self. 
   Because the five clung-to aggregates are subject to destruction, 
   they are not "my" self, are not "mine". "I" cannot prevent their 
   decay, their becoming sick, damaged, faulty and their passing away. 
   The conclusion that the self must then be outside of the five 
   aggregates does not follow either, because it, too, is a thought and 
   therefore belongs to one of the five clung-to aggregates (i.e. 
   mental formations).
       
       Any designation of the Enlightened One after death is therefore 
   an illusion, born out of compulsion for naming, and cannot be 
   appropriate. Whoever has followed the teaching of the Awakened One, 
   as Khema did, is greatly relieved to see that the Buddha did not 
   teach the destruction of an existing entity, nor the annihilation of 
   a self. But, on the contrary, those not instructed by the Exalted 
   One live without exception in a world of perpetual destruction, of 
   uncontrollable transiency in the realm of death. Whatever they look 
   upon as "I" and "mine" is constantly vanishing and only upon 
   renouncing these things which are unsatisfactory because of their 
   impermanence, can they reach a refuge of peace and security. Just as 
   the lion's roar of the Exalted One proclaimed: "Open are the doors 
   to the deathless, who has ears to hear, come and listen."
       
       Khema tried to explain this to the King with a simile. She asked 
   him whether he had a clever mathematician or statistician, who could 
   calculate for him how many hundred, thousand or hundred-thousand 
   grains of sand are contained in the river Ganges. The King replied 
   that that is not possible. The nun then asked him whether he knew of 
   anyone who could figure out how many gallons of water are contained 
   in the great ocean. That, too, the King considered impossible. Khema 
   asked him why it is not possible. The King replied that the ocean is 
   mighty, deep, unfathomable.
       
       Just so, said Khema, is the Exalted One. Whoever wished to define 
   the Awakened One, could only do so through the five clung-to 
   aggregates and the Buddha no longer clung-to them. "Released from 
   clinging to form, feeling, perception, mental formations and 
   consciousness is the Enlightened One, mighty, deep unfathomable as 
   the great ocean."
       
       Therefore it was not appropriate to say he existed or did not 
   exist, or existed and did not exist, nor did he neither exist nor 
   not exist. All these designations could not define what was 
   undefinable. Just that was liberation: liberation from the 
   compulsion to stabilize as "self" the constant flux of the five 
   aggregates, which are never the same in any given moment, but only 
   appear as a discharge of tensions arising from mental formations.
       
       The King rejoiced in the penetrating explanation of the nun 
   Khema. Later on he met the Enlightened One and asked him the same 
   four questions. The Buddha explained it exactly as Khema had done, 
   even using the same words. The King was amazed and recounted his 
   conversation with the wise nun Khema, the Arahant. (S 44,1)
       
       Sources: S 17,23; S 44,1; A I,24; II,62 = IV,176; VIII,91.
       
       Thag.  139-144; J 354;397;501;502;534;539; Ap II No.18
              (verse 96); Bu 26,19.                        
       
       
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                           BHADDA KUNDALAKESA
                                          
                        THE FORMER JAIN ASCETIC
                                          
  
       In Rajagaha, the capital of the kingdom of Magadha, lived a girl 
   of good family named Bhadda. Her parents protected her very 
   carefully, because she had a passionate nature and they were afraid 
   that she would be hurt due to her attraction to men. One day from 
   her window Bhadda saw how a thief was being led to the place of 
   execution. He was the son of a Brahmin (priest-caste) but had a 
   strong tendency towards stealing.
       
       She fell in love with him at first sight. She convinced her 
   father that she could not live without him, and so he bribed the 
   guards who let the condemned man escape.
       
       Soon after the wedding the bridegroom became obsessed with the 
   desire to get his wife's jewelry. He told her he had made a vow that 
   he would make an offering to a certain mountain deity if he could 
   escape execution. Through this ruse he managed to get Bhadda away 
   from his home. He wanted to throw her down from a high cliff to gain 
   possession of her valuable ornaments. When they came to the cliff, 
   he brusquely told her about his intention. Bhadda, in her distress, 
   likewise resolved to a ruse that enabled her to give him a push so 
   that it was he who fell to his death.
       
       Burdened by the enormity of her deed, she did not want to return 
   to lay life. Sensual pleasures and possessions were no longer 
   tempting for her. She became a wandering ascetic. First she entered 
   the order of Jains and as a special penance, her hair was torn out 
   by the roots, when she ordained. But it grew again and was very 
   curly. Therefore she was called "Curly-hair" (Kundalakesa).
       
       The teaching of the Jain sect did not satisfy her, so she became 
   a solitary wanderer. For fifty years she traveled through India and 
   visited many spiritual teachers, thereby obtaining an excellent 
   knowledge of religious scriptures and philosophies. She became one 
   of the most famous debaters. When she entered a town, she would make 
   a sand-pile and stick a rose-apple branch into it and would announce 
   that whoever would engage in discussion with her should trample upon 
   the sand-pile.
       
       One day she came to Savatthi and again erected her little 
   monument. At that time, Sariputta -- the disciple of the Buddha with 
   the greatest power of analysis -- was staying at the Jeta Grove. He 
   heard of the arrival of Bhadda and as a sign of his willingness for 
   debate, he had several children go and trample on the sand-pile. 
   Thereupon Bhadda went to the Jeta Grove, to Anathapindika's 
   Monastery, accompanied by a large number of people. She was certain 
   of victory, since she had become used to being the winner in all 
   debates.
       
       She put a number of questions to Sariputta. He answered all of 
   them until she found nothing more to ask. Then Sariputta questioned 
   her. Already the first question affected Bhadda profoundly, namely, 
   "What is the One?" She remained silent, unable to discern what the 
   Elder could have been inquiring about. Surely he did not mean "God", 
   or "Brahman" or "the Infinite", she pondered. But what was it then? 
   The answer should have been "nutriment" because all beings are 
   sustained by food.
       
       Although she was unable to find an answer and thereby lost the 
   debate, she knew that here was someone who had found what she had 
   been looking; for during her pilgrimage of half a century. She chose 
   Sariputta as her teacher, but he referred her to the Buddha. The 
   Awakened One preached Dhamma to her at Mount Vulture Peak and 
   concluded with the following verses:
           
           Though a thousand verses
           are made of meaningless lines,
           better the single meaningful line
           by hearing which one is at peace.
                                                          (Dhp 101)
       
       Just as the wanderer Bahiya was foremost amongst monks who 
   attained Arahantship faster than anyone else, she was foremost 
   amongst nuns with the same quality. Both grasped the highest Truth 
   so quickly and so deeply that admittance to the Order followed after 
   attainment of Arahantship. Mind and emotions of both of them had 
   long been trained and prepared, so that they could reach the highest 
   attainment very quickly.   
       
       Bhadda's verses have been handed down to us in the collection of 
   the "Verses of the Elder Nuns", as she summarizes her life:
       
           I traveled before in a single cloth,
           With shaven head, covered in dust,
           Thinking of faults in the faultless,
           While in the faulty seeing no faults. [*]
           When done was the day's abiding, [**]
           I went to Mount Vulture Peak
           And saw the stainless Buddha
           By the Order of Bhikkhus revered.
           Then before Him my hands in anjali [***]
           Humbly, I bowed down on my knees.
           "Come, Bhadda," He said to me:
           And thus was I ordained.
           Debt-free, I traveled for fifty years
           In Anga, Magadha and Vajji,
           In Kasi and Kosala, too,
           Living on the alms of the land.
           That lay-supporter -- wise man indeed --
           May many merits accrue to him!
           Who gave a robe to Bhadda for
           Free of all ties is she.
                                                  (Thig 107-111)
       
   * [//Vajja//: fault, can also mean "what is obstructive to spiritual 
   progress".]
   ** [The daytime spent in seclusion for meditation.]
   *** [//anjali//: hands placed palms to palm respectfully.
       
       
       Sources: A I,24; Thig 107-111; J 509; Ap 11 No.21 (p.560).
       
       
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                               KISAGOTAMI
                                          
                     THE MOTHER WITH THE DEAD CHILD
       
       
       There lived in Savatthi a girl called Gotami, in poor 
   circumstances, belonging to the lowest caste. Because she was very 
   thin and haggard, a real bean-pole, everyone called her the haggard 
   (//kisa//) Gotami. When one saw her walking around, tall and thin, 
   one could not fathom her inner riches. One could truly say about 
   her:
           
           Her beauty was an inner one
           One could not see its spark outside.
           
       She was despondent because due to her poverty and lack of 
   attractiveness, she was unable to find a husband. But one day it 
   suddenly happened that a rich merchant who appreciated her inner 
   wealth and considered that more important than her outer appearance, 
   married her. However, the husband's family despised her because of 
   her caste, her poverty and her looks. This animosity caused her 
   great unhappiness, especially because of her beloved husband, who 
   found himself in conflict between love for his parents and love for 
   his wife.
       
       But when Kisagotami gave birth to a baby boy, the husband's whole 
   clan finally accepted her as the mother of the son and heir. Her 
   relief about this changed attitude was immense and a great burden 
   was taken from her. Now she was totally happy and contented. The boy 
   grew up and soon started playing outside, full of energy and joy. 
   However, one day her happiness showed itself to be based on an 
   illusion. Her little son died suddenly. She did not know how to bear 
   this tragedy. Beyond the usual love of a mother for her child, she 
   had been especially attached to this child, because he was the 
   guarantee for her marital bliss and her peace of mind.
       
       His death made her fear that her husband's family would despise 
   her again and that they would blame her, saying she was karmically 
   unable to have a son. "Kisagotami must have done some very 
   despicable deeds, to have this happen to her," people would say. And 
   even her husband might reject her now. All such ideas and imaginings 
   revolved in her mind and a dark cloud descended upon her. She simply 
   refused to accept the fact that the child was dead, and became 
   obsessed with the fantasy that her child was only sick and that she 
   had to get medicine for him.
       
       With the dead child in her arms, she ran away from her home and 
   went from house to house asking for medicine for her little son. At 
   every door she begged: "Please give me some medicine for my child," 
   but the people replied that medicine would not help any more, the 
   child was dead. But she did not understand what they were saying to 
   her, because in her mind she had resolved that the child was not 
   dead. Others laughed at her without compassion. But amongst the many 
   selfish and unsympathetic people, she also met a wise and kind 
   person who recognized that her mind was deranged because of grief. 
   He advised her to visit the best physician, namely the Buddha of the 
   ten powers, who would know the right remedy.
       
       She immediately followed this advice and ran to Prince Jeta's 
   Grove, Anathapindika's Monastery, where the Buddha was staying. She 
   arrived in the middle of a discourse being given by the Buddha to a 
   large congregation. Totally despairing and in tears, with the corpse 
   of the child in her arms, she begged the Buddha, "Master, give me 
   medicine for my son." The Awakened One interrupted his teaching and 
   replied kindly that he knew of a medicine. Hopefully she inquired 
   what that could be.
       
       "Mustard seeds," the Enlightened One replied, astounding everyone 
   present.
       
       Joyfully, Kisagotami inquired where she should go to obtain them 
   and what kind to get. The Buddha replied that she need only bring a 
   very small quantity from any house where no one had died. She 
   trusted the Blessed One's words and went to the town. At the first 
   house, she asked whether any mustard seeds were available. 
   "Certainly," was the reply. "Could I have a few seeds?" she 
   inquired. "Of course," she was told, and some seeds were brought to 
   her. But then she asked the second question, which she had not 
   deemed quite as important: whether anyone had died in this house. 
   "But of course," the people told her. And so it went everywhere. In 
   one house someone; had died recently, in another house some time 
   ago. She could not find any house where no one had died. The dead 
   ones are more numerous than the living ones, she was told.
       
       Towards evening she finally realized that not only she was 
   stricken by the death of a loved one, but this was the common human 
   fate. What no words had been able to convey to her, her own 
   experience -- going from door to door -- made clear to her. She 
   understood the law of existence, the being fettered to the always 
   re-occurring deaths. In this way, the Buddha was able to heal her 
   obsession and bring her to an acceptance of reality. Kisagotami no 
   longer refused to believe that her child was dead, but understood 
   that death is the destiny of all beings.
       
       Such were the means by which the Buddha could heal grief-stricken 
   people and bring them out of their overpowering delusion, in which 
   the whole world was perceived only in the perspective of their loss. 
   Once, when someone was lamenting the death of his father, the Buddha 
   asked him which father he meant: the father of this life, or the 
   last life, or the one before that. Because if one wanted to grieve, 
   then it would be just as well not only to feel sorrow for the one 
   father. (Pv 8, J 352).
       
       Another time a grief-stricken person was able to see reality when 
   the Buddha pointed out to him that his son would be reborn and that 
   he was only lamenting for an empty shell. (Pv 12, J 354).
       
       After Kisagotami had come to her senses, she took the child's 
   lifeless body to the cemetery and returned to the Enlightened One. 
   He asked her whether she had brought any mustard seed. She 
   gratefully explained how she had been cured by the Blessed One. 
   Thereupon the Master spoke the following verse to her:
           
           In flocks and children finding delight,
           with a mind clinging -- just such a man
           death seizes and carries away,
           as a great flood, a sleeping village.
                                                          (Dhp 287)
       
       Because her mind had matured and she had won insight into 
   reality, it was possible for her to become a stream-winner after 
   hearing the Buddha proclaim just that one verse. She asked for 
   admittance into the Order of Nuns.
       
       After having spent some time as a nun, practicing and studying 
   Dhamma, she watched her lamp one evening and compared the restlessly 
   hissing flames with the ups and downs of life and death. Thereupon 
   the Blessed One came to her and again spoke a short verse:
       
           Though one should live a hundred years
           not seeing the Deathless State,
           yet better is life for a single day,
           seeing the Deathless State.
                                                          (Dhp 114)
       
       When she heard these lines, she was able to shed all fetters and 
   became one of the Arahants, the fully Enlightened Ones.
       
       Ninety-two eons ago, in one of her former lives, she had been the 
   wife of a Buddha-to-be, at the time of the Buddha Phussa. During the 
   time of the last Buddha before the Sage of the Sakyas, namely Buddha 
   Kassapa, she had been a King's daughter who became a nun. (J 409)
       
       In the collection of "Verses of the Elder Nuns" her stanzas can 
   be found, in which she describes the great joy the Buddha imparted 
   to her. Therefore she praises friendship with the Noble and Holy 
   Ones:
       
           The Sage has emphasized and praised
           Noble friendship for the world.
           If one stays with a Noble Friend,
           even a fool will become a wise person.
           Stay with them of good heart
           for the wisdom of those who stay with them grows.
           And while one is staying with them,
           from every kind of //dukkha// one is freed.
           //Dukkha// one should know well,
           and how //dukkha// arises and ceases,
           and the Eightfold Path,
           and the Four Noble Truths.
                                                       (Thig 213-215)
       
       The compassion of the Buddha, the most noble friend of all, had 
   saved her from all suffering experienced in this and former lives. 
   She used as her model, the heartrending example of the nun Patacara 
   who had also been afflicted with temporary insanity after the death 
   of not only husband and two sons, but also parents and brothers. 
   Because women's longing for men is so deeply ingrained, the Buddha 
   said, "For a man does the woman strive." (A VI.52) From this 
   attachment is born the torture of jealousy, the lack of 
   self-reliance, and the despair of loneliness.
       
       Only when one penetrates a woman's suffering in this way can one 
   realize the full impact of Kisagotami's gratitude towards the Buddha 
   who showed her the way. So she says:
       
           "Woman's state is painful,"
           declares the Trainer of tamable men.
           "A wife with others is painful
           and once having borne a child,
           some even cut their throats;
           others of delicate constitution
           poison take, then pain again;
           and then there's the baby obstructing the birth,
           killing the mother too."
                                                   (Thig 216-217)
       
       After she attained to Arahantship, she was able to see her past 
   lives and could now say:
             
           Miserable woman, your kin all dead
           and limitless //dukkha// you've known.
           So many tears have you shed
           in these many thousands of births.
                                                     (Thig 220)
       
       The third part of her verses finalizes her joy in finding 
   liberation and release from all suffering:
       
           Wholly developed by me is
           the Eightfold Noble Path going to Deathlessness,
           Nibbana realized,
           I looked into the Mirror of the Dhamma.
           With dart removed am I,
           the burden laid down, done what was to be done,
           The elder nun Kisagotami,
           freed in mind and heart, has chanted this.
                                                (Thig 222-223)
       
       When Mara[*], as he had done so often before with other nuns, 
   came to tempt her, to distract her from meditation and asked her 
   whether she was lusting for man now that her child was dead, she 
   immediately replied, discerning the ruse:
       
   * [Mara is traditionally depicted as the "tempter" or "temptation". 
   While here it is made to appear as if "he" were an outer force, the 
   Buddha taught that temptation arises in one's own heart and mind 
   because of one's own defilements.]
  
           
           "Passed is the time of my child's death
           and I have fully done with men;
           I do not grieve, nor do I weep,
           and I'm not afraid of you, friend.
           Sensual delight in every way is dead,
           for the mass of darkness is destroyed.
           Defeating the soldiery of death,
           I live free from every taint."
                                                           (S 5,3)
       
       Addressing Mara as "friend", she shows her lack of fear and her 
   equanimity. Grumbling sullenly, Mara disappeared just as before when 
   he had tried in vain to fetter other nuns to the realm of birth and 
   death.
       
       The nun Kisagotami, rising to holiness from lowliest birth, was 
   praised by the Buddha as amongst the seventy-five greatest nuns.[*]
       
   * [She was pre-eminent in ascetic habits and was wont to wear
   garments of rough fibers. (A I, 24).]
  
  
       Sources: A I,24; S 5,3; Thig 213-223, J 438; Ap 11 No.22
       
       
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                        SONA WITH MANY CHILDREN
       
       
       There was a housewife in Savatthi who had ten children. She was 
   always occupied with giving birth, nursing, upbringing, educating 
   and arranging marriages for her children. Her children were her 
   whole life. She was therefore known as "Sona with many children".
       
       She was rather like Migara's mother of the same city, though the 
   latter had twenty children. We may find such an abundance of 
   offspring in one family somewhat strange today. However, this was 
   not uncommon in Asia and even in some parts of the West.
       
       Sona's husband was a lay follower of the Buddha. After having 
   practiced moral conduct according to the precepts for several years 
   while living the household life, he decided that the time had come 
   to enter into the holy life, and so he became a monk. It was not 
   easy for Sona to accept this decision, yet she did not waste her 
   time with regrets and sorrow, but decided to live a more religiously 
   dedicated life. She called her ten children and their husbands and 
   wives together, turned her considerable wealth over to them, and 
   asked them only for support for her necessities. For a while all 
   went well. She had sufficient support and could spend her time in 
   religious activities.
       
       But soon it happened that the old woman became a burden to her 
   children and children-in-law. They had not been in agreement with 
   their father's decision, and even less did they agree with their 
   mother's devout attitude and religious speech. Indeed, they thought 
   of their parents as foolish because they would not indulge in the 
   pleasures their wealth could purchase. They considered their parents 
   mentally unstable, religious fanatics; this attitude made them 
   despise their mother.
       
       They quickly forgot that they owed all their riches to their 
   mother, that she had lavished many years of care and attention on 
   them. Looking only at the present moment, they considered the old 
   woman a nuisance. The words of the Buddha, that a grateful person is 
   as rare in the world as one who becomes a Noble One, proved true 
   again in this case. (A III, 122; V, 143; V, 195).
       
       The increasing disdain by her children was an even greater pain 
   for Sona than the separation from her husband. She became aware that 
   waves of bitterness arose in her, that reproaches and accusations 
   intermingled. She realized that what she had taken to be selfless 
   love, pure mother's love, was in reality self love, coupled with 
   expectations. She had been relying on her children completely and 
   had been convinced that she would be supported by them in her old 
   age as a tribute to her long years of solicitude for them, that 
   gratitude, appreciation and participation in their affairs would be 
   her reward. Had she not looked at her children as an investment 
   then, as an insurance against the fear and loneliness of old age? In 
   this manner, she investigated her motives and found the truth of the 
   Enlightened One's words in herself. Namely, that it was a woman's 
   way not to rely on possessions, power and abilities, but solely on 
   her children, while it was the way of the ascetic to rely on virtue 
   alone. (A VI, 53).
       
       Her reflections brought her to the decision to enter the Order of 
   Nuns so that she could develop the qualities of selfless love and 
   virtue. Why should she remain in her home where she was only 
   reluctantly accepted? She looked upon the household life as a gray 
   existence and pictured that of a nun as brilliant, and so was ready 
   to follow here husband's path. She became a nun, a Bhikkhuni in the 
   order of the Buddha's followers.
       
       But after a while she realized that she had taken her self-love 
   along. The other nuns criticized her behavior in many small matters. 
   She had entered the Sangha as an old woman and had dozens of habits 
   and peculiarities which were obstacles in this new environment. She 
   was used to doing things in a certain way, and the other nuns did 
   them differently.
       
       Sona soon realized that it was not easy to reach noble 
   attainments, and that the Order of Nuns was not the paradise she had 
   envisioned -- just as she had not found security with her children. 
   She also understood that she was still held fast by her womanly 
   limitations. It was not enough that her weaknesses were abhorrent to 
   her, and that she was longing for more masculine traits. She also 
   had to know what to do to effect the change. She accepted the fact 
   that she had to make tremendous efforts, not only because she was 
   already advanced in years, but also because until now she had only 
   cultivated female virtues. The masculine characteristics which she 
   was lacking were energy and circumspection. Sona did not become 
   discouraged, nor thought of the Path as too difficult. She had the 
   same sincerity and steadfastness as her sister-nun-Soma, who said:
           
           What's it to do with a woman's state
           When the mind, well-composed
           with knowledge after knowledge born,
           sees into Perfect Dhamma clear?
           For who, indeed, conceives it thus:
           A woman am I, a man am I,
           or what, then indeed, am I?
           Such a one can Mara still address.
                                                  (S 5,2)
       
       It became clear to Sona that she had to develop courage and 
   strength to win victory over her willfulness and her credulity. She 
   realized that it was necessary to practice mindfulness and 
   self-observation, and to implant into her memory those teachings 
   which could be at her disposal when needed to counteract her 
   emotions.
       
       What use would be all knowledge and vows if she were carried away 
   by her emotions, and her memory fail her when it was most needed? 
   These were the reasons which strengthened Sona's determination and 
   will-power to learn the Buddha's discourses. Through many a night 
   thereby she attained the ability to memorize them. Furthermore, she 
   took pains to serve her sister-nuns in a loving way and to apply the 
   teachings constantly. After having practiced in this way for some 
   time, she attained not only the assurance of Non-returner, but 
   became an Arahant, fully-enlightened, a state she had hardly dared 
   to hope for in this lifetime.
       
       It happened without any special circumstances to herald it. After 
   she had made a whole-hearted commitment to perfect those abilities 
   which she lacked, no matter what the cost, she drew nearer to her 
   goal day by day. One day she was liberated from the very last 
   fetter. The Buddha said about her that she was foremost of the nuns 
   who had energetic courage. (A I, 24)
       
       In the "Verses of the Elder Nuns" she describes her life in five 
   verses:
       
           Ten children having borne
           from this bodily congeries,
           so I, now weak and old,
           approached a Bhikkhuni.
           
           The Dhamma she taught me -- 
           groups, sense-spheres and elements, [*]
           I heard the Dhamma,
           and having shaved my hair, went forth.
           
           While still a probationer
           I purified the eye divine;
           Former lives I knew,
           and where I lived before.
           
           One-pointed, well-composed,
           the Signless [**] I developed,
           immediately released,
           unclinging now and quenched!
           Knowing the five groups well,
           they still exist; but with their roots removed.
           Unmovable am I,
           on a stable basis sure,
           now rebirth is no more.
                                                   (Thig 102-106)
       
   * [The five groups (or aggregates), the twelve sense spheres and the 
   eighteen elements -- see Buddhist Dictionary, B.P.S. Kandy, for  
   definition.]
       
   ** [One of the three gates to freedom the other two being the 
   Desireless and Emptiness.]
       
       
       Sona's sister-nuns, who had formerly been her severe critics, and 
   who had thought that because of her age she would not be able to 
   change, now apologized to her sincerely and endeavored to follow her 
   good example.
       
       
       Sources: A I, 24; Thig 102-106; AP. 11, No.26
       
       
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                 NANDA
                                          
                  THE HALF-SISTER OF THE AWAKENED ONE
       
       
       When she was born, Nanda was lovingly welcomed by her parents -- 
   the father of the Buddha and his second wife. Her name means joy, 
   contentment, pleasure, and was given when parents were especially 
   joyful about the arrival of a baby.
       
       Nanda was extremely well-bred, graceful and beautiful. To 
   distinguish her from others by the same name, she was later called 
   "Rupa-Nanda", "one of delightful form", or sometimes 
   "Sundari-Nanda", "beautiful Nanda".
       
       In due course many members of her family -- the royal house of 
   the Sakyans -- left the household for the homeless life, influenced 
   by the amazing fact that one of their clan had become the 
   fully-enlightened Buddha. Amongst them was her brother Nanda, her 
   cousins, and finally her mother, together with many other Sakyan 
   ladies. Thereupon Nanda also took this step, but it is recorded that 
   she did not do it out of confidence in the teacher and the 
   teachings, but out of love for her relatives and a feeling of 
   belonging with them.
       
       One can easily imagine the love and respect accorded the graceful 
   half-sister of the Buddha and how touched the people were by the 
   sight of the lovely royal daughter, so near in family ties to the 
   Blessed One, wandering amongst them in the garb of a nun.
       
       But it soon became obvious that this was not a good basis for a 
   nun's life. Nanda's thoughts were mainly directed towards her own 
   beauty and her popularity with the people, traits which were 
   resultants of former good actions. These resultants now became 
   dangers to her, since she forgot to reinforce them with new actions. 
   She felt that she was not living up to the high ideals the people 
   envisioned for her, and that she was far from the goal for which so 
   many noble-born clansmen had gone into the homeless life. She was 
   sure that the Blessed One would censure her on account of this. 
   Therefore she managed to evade him for a long time.
       
       One day the Buddha requested all the nuns to come to him, one by 
   one, to receive his teaching, but Nanda did not comply. The Master 
   let her be called specially, and then she appeared before him, 
   ashamed and anxious by her demeanor. The Buddha addressed her and 
   appealed to all her positive qualities so that she listened to him 
   willingly and delighted in his words. When the Blessed One knew that 
   the talk had uplifted her, had made her joyful and ready to accept 
   his teaching, he did not immediately explain absolute reality to 
   her, as is often mentioned in other accounts, frequently resulting 
   in noble attainment to his listener.
       
       Because Nanda was so taken up with her physical beauty, the 
   Buddha used his psychic powers to conjure up the vision of an even 
   more beautiful woman, who then aged visibly and relentlessly before 
   her very eyes. Thereby Nanda could see, compressed within a few 
   moments, what otherwise one can only notice in people through 
   decades -- and often because of proximity and habit one does not 
   even fully comprehend: the fading away of youth and beauty, the 
   decay, the appearance of wrinkles and gray hair. The vision affected 
   Nanda deeply; she was shaken to the center of her being.
       
       After having shown her this graphic picture, the Buddha could 
   explain the law of impermanence to her in such a way that she 
   penetrated the truth of its completely, and thereby attained the 
   knowledge of future liberation -- Stream-entry. As a meditation 
   subject the Buddha gave her the contemplation of the impermanence 
   and foulness of the body. She persevered for a long time with this 
   practice "faithful and courageous day and night"; (Thig 84) as she
   described in her verses:
           
           Sick, impure and foul as well,
           Nanda, see this congeries
           With the unlovely, [*] develop mind
           Well-composed to singleness.
           
           As is that, thus will this likewise be.
           Exhaling foulness, evil smells,
           A thing it is enjoyed [**] by fools.
           
           Diligently considering it,
           By day and night thus seeing it,
           With my own wisdom having seen,
           I turned away, dispassionate.
           
           With my diligence, carefully
           I examined the body
           And saw this as it really is -- 
           Both within and without.
           
           Unlusting and dispassionate
           Within this body then was I:
           By diligence from fetters freed,
           Peaceful was I and quite cool.
                                                    (Thig 82-86)
       
   * [The meditations on seeing the body as unattractive, either as 
   parts, or in death. See "Bag of Bones", Wheel 271/272.]
  
   ** [Play on her own name, Nanda or Joy and "//abhinanditam// ".]
       
       
       Because Nanda had been so infatuated with her physical 
   appearance, it had been necessary for her to apply the extreme of 
   meditations on bodily unattractiveness as a counter-measure to find 
   equanimity as balance between the two opposites. For beauty and 
   ugliness are just two kinds of impermanence. Nothing can disturb the 
   cool, peaceful heart ever again.
       
       Later the Buddha raised his half-sister as being the foremost 
   amongst nuns who practiced Jhana.[*] This meant that she not only 
   followed the analytical way of insight, but put emphasis on the 
   experience of tranquillity. Enjoying this pure well-being, she no 
   longer needed any lower enjoyments and soon found indestructible 
   peace. Although she had gone into homelessness because of attachment 
   to her relatives, she became totally free and equal to the One she 
   venerated.
  
   * [Jhana: Total meditative absorption.]
       
       
       Sources: A I, 24; Thig 82-86; AP II, No.25 (54 verses).
       
       
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                             QUEEN SAMAVATI
       
       
       In the days when India was the fortunate home of an Awakened One, 
   a husband and wife lived within its borders with an only daughter, 
   who was exceedingly beautiful. Their family life was a happy and 
   harmonious one. Then one day pestilence broke out in their hometown. 
   Amongst those fleeing from the disaster area was also this family 
   with their grown-up daughter. 
       
       They went to Kosambi, the capital of the kingdom of Vamsa in the 
   valley of the Ganges. The municipality had erected a public 
   eating-hall for the refugees. There the daughter, Samavati, went to 
   obtain food. The first day she took three portions, the second day 
   two portions and on the third day only one portion.
       
       Mitta, the man who was distributing the food, could not resist 
   from asking her somewhat ironically, whether she had finally 
   realized the capacity of her stomach. Samavati replied quite calmly: 
   On the first day her father had died and so she only needed food for 
   two people; on the second day her mother had succumbed to the 
   dreaded disease, and so she only needed food for herself. The 
   official felt ashamed about his sarcastic remark and wholeheartedly 
   begged her forgiveness. A long conversation ensued. When he found 
   out that she was all alone in the world, he proposed to adopt her as 
   his foster-child. She was happy to accept and was now relieved of 
   all worries about her livelihood.
       
       Samavati immediately began helping her foster father with the 
   distribution of the food and the care of the refugees.
       
       Thanks to her efficiency and circumspection, the former chaos 
   became channeled into orderly activity. Nobody tried to get ahead of 
   others any more, nobody quarreled, and everyone was content.
       
       Soon the Finance Minister of the king, Ghosaka, became aware that 
   the public food distribution was taking place without noise and 
   tumult. When he expressed his praise and appreciation to the 
   food-distributor, the official replied modestly that his 
   foster-daughter was mainly responsible for this. In this way Ghosaka 
   met Samavati and was so impressed with her noble bearing, that he 
   decided to adopt her as his own daughter. His manager consented, 
   even if somewhat woefully, because he did not want to be in the way 
   of Samavati's fortune. So Ghosaka took her into his house and 
   thereby she became heiress of a vast fortune and became part of the 
   most exalted circles of the land.
       
       The king, who was living in Kosambi at that time, was Udena. He 
   had two chief consorts. One was Vasuladatta, whom he had married 
   both for political reasons and because she was very beautiful, but 
   these were her only assets. The second one, Magandiya, was not only 
   very beautiful, but also very clever though without heart. So the 
   King was not emotionally contented with his two wives.
       
       One day king Udena met the charming, adopted daughter of his 
   Finance Minister and fell in love with her at first sight. He felt 
   magically attracted by her loving and generous nature. Samavati had 
   exactly what was missing in both his other wives. King Udena sent a 
   messenger to Ghosaka and asked him to give Samavati to him in 
   marriage. Ghosaka was thrown into an emotional upheaval. He loved 
   Samavati above all else, and she had become indispensable to him. 
   She was the delight of his life. On the other hand, he knew his 
   king's temperament and was afraid to deny him his request. But in 
   the end his attachment to Samavati won and he thought: "Better to 
   die than to live without her."
       
       As usual, King Udena lost his temper. In his fury he dismissed 
   Ghosaka from his post as Finance Minister and banned him from his 
   kingdom and did not allow Samavati to accompany him. He took over 
   his minister's property and locked up his magnificent mansion. 
   Samavati was desolate that Ghosaka had to suffer so much on her 
   account and had lost not only her, but also his home and belongings. 
   Out of compassion for her adopted father, to whom she was devoted 
   with great gratitude, she decided to make an end to this dispute by 
   voluntarily becoming the king's wife. She went to the Palace and 
   informed the King of her decision. The king was immediately appeased 
   and restored Ghosaka to his former position, as well as rescinding 
   all other measures against him.
       
       Because Samavati had great love for everyone, she had so much 
   inner strength that this decision was not a difficult one for her. 
   It was not important to her where she lived: whether in the house of 
   the Finance Minister as his favorite daughter, or in the palace as 
   the favorite wife of the king, or in obscurity as when she was in 
   the house of her parents, or as a poor refugee -- she always found 
   peace in her own heart and was happy regardless of outer 
   circumstances.
       
       Samavati's life at the court of one of the Maharajas of that time 
   fell into a harmonious pattern. Amongst her servants, there was one, 
   named Khujjuttara the "hunch-backed". Outwardly she was ill-formed, 
   but otherwise very capable. Everyday the Queen gave her eight gold 
   coins to buy flowers for the women's quarters of the palace. But 
   Khujjuttara always bought only four coins worth and used the rest 
   for herself. One day when she was buying flowers again for her 
   mistress from the gardener, a monk was taking his meal there. He was 
   of majestic appearance. When he gave a discourse to the gardener 
   after the meal, Khujjuttara listened. The monk was the Buddha. He 
   directed his discourse in such a way that he spoke directly to 
   Khujjuttara's heart. And his teaching penetrated into her inner 
   being. Just from hearing this one discourse, so well expounded, she 
   attained Stream-entry. Without quite knowing what had happened to 
   her, she was a totally changed person. The whole world, which had 
   seemed so obvious and real to her until now, appeared as a dream, 
   apart from reality. The first thing she did that day was to buy 
   flowers for all of the eight coins. She regretted her former 
   dishonesty deeply.
       
       When the Queen asked her why there were suddenly so many flowers 
   Khujjuttara fell at the Queen's feet and confessed her theft. When 
   Samavati forgave her magnanimously, Khujjuttara told her what was 
   closest to her heart, namely, that she had heard a discourse by the 
   Buddha, which had changed her life. She could not be specific about 
   the contents of the teaching, but Samavati could see for herself 
   what a wholesome and healing influence the teaching had had on her 
   servant. She made Khujjuttara her personal attendant and told her to 
   visit the Monastery every day to listen to the Dhamma and then 
   repeat it to her.
       
       Khujjuttara had an outstanding memory and what she had heard 
   once, she could repeat verbatim. Later on she made a collection of 
   discourses she had heard from the Buddha or one of his enlightened 
   disciples during these days at Kosambi, and from it developed the 
   book now called //Itivuttaka// ("It-was-said-thus"), composed of 112 
   small discourses.
       
       When king Udena once again told his beloved Samavati that she 
   could wish for anything and he would fulfill it, she wished that the 
   Buddha would come to the palace daily to have his food there and 
   propound his teaching. The king's courier took the message of this 
   perpetual invitation to the Buddha, but he declined and instead sent 
   his cousin Ananda.
       
       From then on Ananda went to the palace daily for his meal and 
   afterward gave a Dhamma discourse. The Queen had already been well 
   prepared by Khujjuttara's reports, and within a short time she 
   understood the meaning and attained to Stream-entry, just as her 
   maid-servant had done.
       
       Now, through their common understanding of the Dhamma, the Queen 
   and the maid became equal. Within a short time, the teaching spread 
   through the whole of the women's quarters and there was hardly 
   anyone who did not become a disciple of the Awakened One. Even 
   Samavati's step-father, the Finance Minister Ghosaka, was deeply 
   touched by the teaching. Similarly to Anathapindika, he donated a 
   large monastery in Kosambi to the Sangha, so that the monks would 
   have a secure and satisfying shelter. Every time the Buddha visited 
   Kosambi he stayed in this Monastery named Ghositarama, and other 
   monks and holy people also would find shelter there.
       
       Through the influence of the Dhamma, Samavati became determined 
   to develop her abilities more intensively. Her most important asset 
   was the way she could feel sympathy for all beings and could 
   penetrate everyone with loving-kindness and compassion. She was able 
   to develop this faculty so strongly that the Buddha called her the 
   woman lay-disciple most skilled in //metta// ("loving-kindness"). (A 
   I.19)
       
       This all-pervading love was soon to be tested severely. It 
   happened like this: The second main consort of the king, Magandiya, 
   was imbued with virulent hatred against everything "Buddhist". Once 
   her father had heard the Buddha preach about unconditional love to 
   all beings, and it had seemed to him that the Buddha was the most 
   worthy one to marry his daughter. In his naive ignorance of the 
   rules of the monks, he offered his daughter to the Buddha as his 
   wife. Magandiya was very beautiful and had been desired by many 
   suitors already.
       
       The Buddha declined the offer but by speaking a single verse 
   about the unattractiveness of the body caused her father and mother 
   to attain the fruit of Non-returning. This was the Buddha's verse, 
   as recorded in the Sutta Nipata (v.835):
       
           Having seen craving with Discontent and Lust,[*]
           There was not in me any wish for sex;
           How then for this, dung-and-urine filled, that
           I should not be willing to touch with my foot.
           
   * [The three beautiful daughters of Mara (the tempter).]
       
       
       But Magandiya thought that the Buddha's rejection of her was an 
   insult and therefore hatred against him and his disciples arose in 
   her. She became the wife of King Udena and when he took a third 
   wife, she could willingly accept that, as it was the custom in her 
   day. But that Samavati had become a disciple of the Buddha and had 
   converted the other women in the palace to his teaching, she could 
   not tolerate. Her hatred against everything connected with the 
   Buddha now turned against Samavati as his representative. She 
   thought up one meanness after another, and her sharp intelligence 
   served only to conjure up new misdeeds.
       
       First she told the King that Samavati was trying to take his 
   life. But the King was well aware of Samavati's great love for all 
   beings, so that he did not even take this accusation seriously, 
   barely listened to it, and forgot it almost immediately.
       
       Secondly, Magandiya ordered one of her maid-servants to spread 
   rumors about the Buddha and his monks in Kosambi, so that Samavati 
   would also be maligned. With this she was more successful. A wave of 
   aversion struck the whole order to such an extent that Ananda 
   suggested to the Buddha that they leave town. The Buddha smiled and 
   said that the purity of the monks would silence all rumors within a 
   week. Hardly had King Udena heard the gossip leveled against the 
   Order, than it had already subsided. Magandiya's second attempt 
   against Samavati had failed. 
       
       Some time later Magandiya had eight specially selected chickens 
   sent to the King and suggested that Samavati should kill them and 
   prepare them for a meal. Samavati refused to do this, as she would 
   not kill any living beings. Since the King knew of her all-embracing 
   love, he did not lose his temper, but accepted her decision.
       
       Magandiya then tried for a fourth time to harm Samavati. Just 
   prior to the week which King Udena was to spend with Samavati, 
   Magandiya hid a poisonous snake in Samavati's chambers, but the 
   poison sacs had been removed. When King Udena discovered the snake, 
   all evidence pointed towards Samavati. His passionate fury made him 
   lose all control. He reached for his bow and arrow and aimed at 
   Samavati. But the arrow rebounded from her without doing any harm. 
   His hatred could not influence her loving concern for him, which 
   continued to emanate from her.
       
       When King Udena regained his equilibrium and saw the miracle -- 
   that his arrow could not harm Samavati, he was deeply moved. He 
   asked her forgiveness and was even more convinced of her nobility 
   and faithfulness. He became interested in the teaching which had 
   given such strength to his wife.
       
       When a famous monk, named Pindola Bharadvaja stayed at the 
   Ghosita Monastery, the King visited him and discussed the teaching 
   with him. He learned that the young monks, according to the Buddha's 
   advice, instead of having contact with women tried to attain the 
   feelings as towards a mother, sister, or daughter thereby they 
   overcame their dependence on the opposite sex and could live 
   joyously as celibates in spite of their youth. At the end of the 
   discourse, the King was so impressed that he took refuge in the 
   Buddha and became a lay disciple. (S 35,127)
       
       Samavati had been thinking about the wonders of the Dhamma and 
   the intricacies of karmic influences. One thing had led to another: 
   she had come to Kosambi as a poor refugee; then the food-distributor 
   had given her shelter; the Finance Minister had taken her on as his 
   daughter; then she became the King's wife; her maid-servant had 
   brought the teaching to her; and she became a disciple and 
   Stream-winner. Subsequently she spread the teaching to all the women 
   in the palace, then to Ghosaka and now lastly also to the King. How 
   convincing Truth was! She often thought in this way and then 
   permeated all beings with loving-kindness, wishing them happiness.
       
       The King now tried more determinedly to control his passionate 
   nature and to subdue greed and hate. His talks with Samavati were 
   very helpful to him in this respect. Slowly this development 
   culminated in his losing all sexual craving when he was in 
   Samavati's company as he was trying to attain the feelings towards 
   women of mother, sister and daughter in himself. While he was not 
   free of sexual desire towards his other wives, he was willing to let 
   Samavati continue on her Path to emancipation unhindered. Soon she 
   attained to the state of Once-returner and drew nearer and nearer to 
   Non-returner, an attainment which many men and women could achieve 
   in lay-life in those days.
       
       Magandiya had suspended her attacks for some time, but continued 
   to ponder how to harm the Buddha through Samavati. After much 
   brooding, she initiated a plan. She brought some of her relatives to 
   her point of view and uttered slander against Samavati to them. Then 
   she proposed to kill her. So that it would not attract attention, 
   but would appear to be an accident, the whole women's palace was to 
   be set on fire. The plan was worked out in all details. Magandiya 
   left town some time beforehand, so that no suspicion could fall on 
   her.
       
       This deed of arson resulted in sky-high flames which demolished 
   the wooden palace totally and the 500 women [*] residing in it were 
   all killed, including Samavati. The news of this disaster spread 
   around town very quickly. No other topic of conversation could be 
   heard there. Several monks, who had not been ordained very long, 
   were also affected by the agitation and after their almsround they 
   went to the Buddha and inquired what would be the future rebirth of 
   these women lay disciples with Samavati as their leader.
       
   * [Five hundred just means 'a great many' in Pali.]
       
       
       The Awakened One calmed their excited hearts and diverted their 
   curiosity about this most interesting question of rebirth, by 
   answering very briefly: "Amongst these women, O monks, there are 
   some disciples who are Stream-enterers, some who are Once-returners 
   and some who are Non-returners. None of these lay disciples failed 
   to receive the fruits of their past deeds." (Ud VII, 10)
       
       The Buddha mentioned here the first three fruits of the Dhamma: 
   Stream-entry, Once-returner and Non-returner. All these disciples 
   were safe from rebirth below the human realm, and each one was 
   securely going towards the final goal of total liberation. This was 
   the most important aspect of their lives and deaths and the Buddha 
   would not elucidate any further details. Once he mentioned to Ananda 
   that it was a vexation for the Enlightened One to explain the future 
   births of all disciples who died. (D 16 11)
       
       The Buddha later explained to some monks who were discussing how 
   "unjust" it was that these faithful disciples should die such a 
   terrible death, that the women experienced this because of a joint 
   deed they had committed many life-times ago. Once Samavati had been 
   Queen of Benares. She had gone with her ladies-in-waiting to bathe 
   and feeling cold, she asked that a bush be burned to give some 
   warmth. She saw only too late that a monk -- a Pacceka Buddha -- was 
   sitting immobile within the bush; he was not harmed, however, 
   because one cannot kill Awakened Ones. The women did not know this 
   and feared that they would be blamed for having made a fire without 
   due caution. Thereupon Samavati had the deluded idea to pour oil 
   over this monk who was sitting in total absorption, so that burning 
   him would obliterate their mistake. This plan could not succeed 
   however, but the bad intention and attempt had to carry karmic 
   resultants. In this lifetime the ripening of the result had taken 
   place.
       
       The Buddha has declared that one of the favorable results of the 
   practice of //Metta// (loving-kindness) is the fact that fire, 
   poison and weapons do no harm to the practitioner. This has to be 
   understood in such a way: during the actual emanation of 
   loving-kindness the one who manifests this radiance cannot be hurt, 
   just as Samavati proved when the king's arrow did not penetrate her.
       
       But at other times fire could incinerate her body. Samavati had 
   become a Non-returner, and was therefore free of all sensual desire 
   and hate and no longer identified with her body. Her radiant, soft 
   heart was imbued with the four divine abidings [*] and was 
   unassailable and untouched by the fire. Her inner being could not be 
   burned and that which was burned was the body only. It is a rare 
   happening that one of the Holy Ones is murdered (see Mahamoggallana, 
   Kaludayi) or that one of the Buddhas is threatened with murder (see 
   Devadatta's attempt on the Buddha Gautama) and equally rare is it to 
   find that one perfected in //metta// and attained to Non-returner 
   should die a violent death. All three types of persons, however, 
   have in common that their hearts can no longer be swayed by this 
   violence.
       
   * [Four divine abidings: Loving-kindness, Compassion, Sympathetic 
   Joy, Equanimity.]
       
       
       Samavati's last words were: "It would not be an easy matter, even 
   with the knowledge of a Buddha, to determine exactly the number of 
   times our bodies have thus been burned with fire as we have passed 
   from birth to birth in the round of existences which has no 
   conceivable beginning. Therefore, be heedful!" Those ladies 
   meditated on painful feeling and so gained the Noble Paths and 
   Fruits.
       
       Two thousand years after the Parinibbana of the Buddha, in 1582, 
   soldiers burned a Buddhist Monastery in Japan and all the monks 
   inside were burned to death. The last thing the soldiers beard 
   before everything burned down were the words of the Abbot:
       
           Who has liberated heart and mind,
           For him fire is only a cool wind.
       
       Referring to the tragedy of the fire at Kosambi, the Buddha spoke 
   the following verse to the monks:
       
           The world is in delusion's grip,
           Its form is seen as real;
           The fool is in the "assets" [*] grip,
           Wrapped about with gloom,
           Both seem to last forever
           But nothing is there for one who Sees.
           
   * [Assets: //Upadhi//. The basis for life and continued birth and  
   death.]
           
       
       King Udena was overwhelmed with grief at Samavati's death and 
   kept brooding about who could be the perpetrator of this ghastly 
   deed. He came to the conclusion that it must have been Magandiya. He 
   did not want to question her directly because she would deny it. So 
   he thought of a ruse. He said to his Ministers: "Until now I have 
   always been apprehensive, because Samavati was forever seeking an 
   occasion to slay me. But now I shall be able to sleep in peace." The 
   Ministers asked the king who it could have been that had done this 
   deed, "Only someone who really loves me," the king replied. 
   Magandiya had been standing near and when she heard that, she came 
   forward and proudly admitted that she alone was responsible for the 
   fire and the death of the women and Samavati. The King said that he 
   would grant her and all her relatives a boon for this.
       
       When all the relatives were assembled, the King had them burned 
   publicly and then had the earth plowed under so that all traces of 
   the ashes were destroyed. He had Magandiya executed as a 
   mass-murderess, which was his duty and responsibility, but his fury 
   knew no bounds and he still looked for revenge. He had her killed 
   with utmost cruelty. She died an excruciating death, which was only 
   a fore-taste of the tortures awaiting her in the nether world, after 
   which she would have to roam in //samsara// [*] for a long, long 
   time to come.
       
   * [Samsara: rounds of existence.]
       
       
       Soon King Udena regretted his revengeful and cruel deed. Again 
   and again he saw Samavati's face in front of him, full of love for 
   all beings, even for her enemies. He felt he had removed himself 
   from her even further than her death had done, because of his 
   violent fury. He began to control his temper more and more and to 
   follow the Buddha's teachings ardently.
       
       Two women, who had been friends of Samavati, were so moved by 
   this tragedy and saw the impermanence of all earthly things so 
   clearly, that they entered the Order of Nuns. One of them soon 
   became an Arahant, fully enlightened, and the other one after 
   twenty-five years of practice. (Thig 37 and 39).
       
       Samavati, however, was reborn in the realm of the Pure Abodes, 
   where she would be able to reach Nibbana. The different results of 
   love and hate could be seen with exemplary clarity in the lives and 
   deaths of these two Queens. When one day the monks were discussing 
   who was alive and who dead, the Buddha said that Magandiya while 
   living, was dead already; while Samavati, though dead, was truly 
   alive, and he spoke these verses:
       
           Heedfulness -- the path to the Deathless,
           heedlessness -- the path to death,
           the heedful ones do not die;
           the heedless are likened to the dead.
           
           The wise then, recognizing this
           as the distinction of heedfulness,
           in heedfulness rejoice, delighting
           in the realm of Noble Ones.
           
           They meditate persistently,
           constantly; they firmly strive
           the steadfast to reach Nibbana,
           the Unexcelled Secure from bonds.
                                                   (Dhp 21-23)
       
       
       The Buddha declared Samavati to be foremost among those female 
   lay disciples who dwell in loving-kindness (//metta//).
       
       
       Sources: Dhammapada Commentary to vv. 21-23; Commentary to 
   Anguttara Nikaya Vol. I (on those Foremost); "Path of Purification"
   p. 417.
                                          
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                PATACARA
                                          
                        PRESERVER OF THE VINAYA
                                          
                                          
       Patacara was the beautiful daughter of a very wealthy merchant of 
   Savatthi. When she was sixteen years old, her parents put her in a 
   seven-story high tower on the top floor surrounded by guards to 
   prevent her from keeping company with any young man. In spite of 
   this precaution, she became involved in a love affair with a servant 
   in her parents' house.
       
       When her parents arranged a marriage for her with a young man of 
   equal social standing, she decided to elope with her lover. She 
   escaped from the tower by disguising herself, and the young couple 
   went to live in a village far away from Savatthi. The husband 
   farmed, and the young wife had to do all the menial chores which 
   formerly had been performed by her parents' servants. Thus she 
   reaped the results of her deed.
       
       When she became pregnant, she begged her husband to take her to 
   her parents' house to give birth there, saying to him that father 
   and mother always have a soft spot in their hearts for their child, 
   no matter what has happened. However, her husband refused on the 
   grounds that her parents would surely subject him to torture or 
   imprisonment. When she realized that he would not give in to her 
   pleas, she decided to make her way to her parents by herself. When 
   the husband found her gone and was told by the neighbors of her 
   decision, he followed her and tried to persuade her to return. 
   However she would not listen to him.
       
       Before they could reach Savatthi, the birth-pains started, and 
   soon a baby son was born. As there was no more reason to go to her 
   parents' house, they turned back and resumed their family life in 
   the village.
       
       Sometime later she became pregnant again. And again she requested 
   her husband to take her home to her parents. Again he refused and 
   she took matters in her own hands and started off, carrying the 
   older child. When her husband followed her and pleaded with her to 
   return with him, she would not listen, but continued on her way. A 
   fearful storm arose, quite out of season, with thunder and lightning 
   and incessant rain. Just then her birth-pains started, and she asked 
   her husband to find her some shelter.
       
       The husband went searching for material for a shelter and set 
   about to chop down some saplings. A poisonous snake bit him at that 
   moment and he fell dead instantly. Patacara waited for him in vain 
   and after having suffered birth pains, a second son was born to her. 
   Both children screamed at the top of their lungs because of the 
   buffeting of the storm, so the mother protected them with her own 
   body all night long. In the morning she placed the new-born baby on 
   her hip, gave a finger to the older child and set out upon the path 
   her husband had taken with the words: "Come, dear child, your father 
   has left us." After a few steps she found her husband lying dead, 
   his body rigid. She wailed and lamented and blamed herself for his 
   death.
       
       She continued on her journey to her parents' house but when she 
   came to the river Aciravati, it was swollen waist-deep on account of 
   the rain. She was too weak to wade across with both children, so she 
   left the older child on the near bank and carried the baby across to 
   the other side. Then she returned to take the first-born across. 
   When she was mid-stream, an eagle saw the new born baby and mistook 
   it for a piece of meat. It came swooping down and in spite of 
   Patacara's cries and screams, flew off with the baby in its talons.
       
       The older boy saw his mother stop in the middle of the river and 
   heard her loud yells. He thought she was calling him and started out 
   after her. Immediately, he was swept off by the strong current.
       
       Wailing and lamenting Patacara went on her way, half-crazed by 
   the triple tragedy that had befallen her, losing husband and both 
   sons within one day. As she came nearer to Savatthi, she met a 
   traveler who was just coming from the city. She inquired about her 
   family from him but at first he refused to answer her. When she 
   insisted, he finally bad to tell her that her parents, house had 
   collapsed in the storm, killing both of them as well as her brother, 
   and that the cremation was just taking place.
       
       When she heard that, her reason left her, because her grief was 
   too much to bear. She tore off her clothes, wandered around weeping 
   and wailing, not knowing what she was doing or where she was going. 
   People pelted her with stones and rubbish and chased her out of the 
   way.
       
       At that time the Buddha was staying at the Jeta Grove, 
   Anathapindika's Monastery. He saw Patacara approaching from afar and 
   recognized that in a past life she had made an earnest resolve to 
   become a nun well versed in the Law. Therefore, he instructed his 
   disciples not to obstruct her, but to let her enter and come near 
   him. As soon as she was close to the Buddha, through his 
   supernatural powers, she regained her right mind. Then she also 
   became aware of being naked and in her shame she crouched upon the 
   ground.
       
       One of the lay-followers threw her a cloak and after she had 
   wrapped herself in it, she prostrated at the feet of the Buddha. 
   Then she recounted to him the tragedy that had befallen her.
       
       The Teacher listened to her with compassion and then made it 
   clear to her that these painful experiences she had gone through 
   were only tiny drops in the ocean of impermanence in which all 
   beings drown if they are attached to that which rises and ceases. He 
   told her that all through many existences, she had wept more tears 
   over the loss of dear ones than could be contained in the waters of 
   the four oceans. He said:
       
           But little water do the oceans four contain,
           Compared with all the tears that man hath shed,
           By sorrow smitten and by suffering distraught.
           Woman, why heedless dost thou still remain?
       
       This exposition of the Awakened One penetrated her mind so deeply 
   that at that moment she could completely grasp the impermanence of 
   all conditioned things.
       
       When the Enlightened One had finished his teaching she had 
   attained the certainty of future liberation by becoming a 
   Stream-winner. She practiced diligently and soon realized final 
   deliverance. She said:
       
           With plows the fields are plowed;
           With seed the earth is sown;
           Thus wives and children feed;
           So young men win their wealth.
                                                (Thig 112)
       
           Then why do I, of virtue pure,
           Doing the Master's Teaching,
           Not lazy nor proud,
           Nibbana not attain?
                                                (Thig 113)
           
           Having washed my feet,
           Then I watched that water,
           Noticing the foot-water
           Flowing from high to low.
           With that the mind was calmed
           Just as a noble, thoroughbred horse.
                                                (Thig 114)
           
           Having taken my lamp,
           I went into my hut,
           Inspected the sleeping-place,
           Then sat upon the couch.
                                                (Thig 115)
           
           Having taken a pin,
           I pushed the wick right down, and
           Just as the lamp went out,
           So all delusion of the heart went too.
                                                (Thig 116)
  
       It had been enough for her to see the water trickle down the 
   slope, to recognize the whole of existence, each life a longer or 
   shorter trickle in the flood of craving. There were those that lived 
   a short time like her children, those -- like her husband -- who 
   lived a little longer, or her parents who lived longer yet. But all 
   passed by a constant change, in a never-ending rising and ceasing. 
   This thought-process gave her so much detachment, that she attained 
   to total emancipation the following night.
       
       The Buddha said about Patacara, that she was the foremost "Keeper 
   of the Vinaya" amongst the Nuns. Patacara was thereby the female 
   counterpart of the monk Upali. That she had chosen the "Rules of 
   Conduct" as her central discipline is easy to understand, because 
   the results of her former indulgences had become bitterly obvious to 
   her.
       
       She learned in the Sangha, that an intensive study of the rules 
   was necessary and purifying, and brought with it the security and 
   safety of self-discipline; she learned not to become complacent 
   through well-being or anxious and confused through suffering. 
   Because of her own experiences she had gained a deep understanding 
   for the human predicament and could be of great assistance to her 
   fellow nuns.
       
       She was a great comfort to those who came to her in difficulties. 
   The nun Canda said that Patacara showed her the right path out of 
   compassion and helped her to achieve emancipation. (Thag. 125)
       
       Another nun, Uttara II, reported how Patacara spoke to the group 
   of nuns about conduct and discipline:
       
           Having established mind,
           One-pointed, well-developed,
           Investigate formations
           As other, not as self.
                                                  (Thig 177)
       
       Uttara took Patacara's words to heart and said:
       
           When I heard these words, -- 
           Patacara's advice,
           After washing my feet --
           I sat down alone.
                                                  (Thig 178)
       
       
       Thereby this nun, too, was able to attain to the three "True 
   Knowledges" (//vijja//) and final liberation. In the "Verses of the 
   Elder Nuns" we have a record of Patacara's instructions to the nuns 
   and their resultant gains:
       
           Having taken flails,
           Young men thresh the corn.
           Thus wives and children feed;
           So young men win their wealth.
           So likewise as to Buddha's Teachings,
           From doing which there's no remorse.
           Quickly cleanse your feet
           And sit you down alone.
           Devote yourselves to calm of mind,
           And thus do Buddha's Teachings.
           When they heard these words --
           Patacara's instructions,
           Having washed their feet,
           They sat down, each one alone,
           Devoted themselves to calm of mind.
           And thus followed the Buddha's Teachings.
           In the night's first watch [*]
           Past births were remembered;
           In the middle watch of the night
           The eye divine was purified;
           In the night's last watch
           They rent asunder the mass of gloom.
           Having risen, they bowed at her feet,
           Her instructions having done;
           We shall live revering you
           Like the thirty gods to Indra,
           Undefeated in war.
           We are with triple knowledge true
           And gone are all the taints.
                                                        (Thig 117-121)
  
   * [First watch of the night: 6-10 p.m; Middle watch: 10 p.m.-2 a.m.; 
   Last watch: 2-6 a.m.]
  
       
       Patacara was able to effect the change from a frivolous young 
   girl to a Sangha Elder so quickly, because from previous births she 
   had already possessed this faculty. During the previous Buddha's 
   existence, it is said that she had been a nun and had lived the holy 
   life for many, many years. The insights gained thereby had been 
   hidden through her actions in subsequent lives. But when the next 
   Buddha appeared in the world, she quickly found her way to him, the 
   reason unbeknown to herself, spurred on by her suffering. 
   Relentlessly attracted to the Awakened One and his doctrine, she 
   entered into the homeless life and soon attained to eternal freedom.
       
       
       Sources: A1,24; Thig 112-121,125,175,178; Ap. 11 No.20; J 547
                                          
                                          
                            * * * * * * * *
                                          
                                          
                                          
                                          
                   CHANGES MADE DURING TRANSCRIPTION
                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  
       In preparing this electronic edition for DharmaNet, some minor 
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       Throughout: "Dhp" is used instead of "Dh" to abbreviate 
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       p. 10: oh King ----> O King
       p. 10: which comes from loving?" Then the king ---->
              which comes from loving? Then the king
       p. 40: the old woman became a burdens ---->
              the old woman became a burden
       p. 55: the Buddha's verse, as recorded is the Sutta Nipata ----> 
              the Buddha's verse, as recorded in the Sutta Nipata
       p. 56 Some time latter ----> Some time later
       p. 59: oh monks ----> O monks
       
       
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