Good Sayings

Some of India’s greatest literary treasures own their existence to Buddhist monks. Take the Subhasitaratnakosa for example – an anthology of 1738 Sanskrit verses written by various poets between about the 3rd and the 11th century. This ‘Treasury of Good Sayings’ was compiled by the monk Vidyakara of the Jagaddala Mahavihara in northern Bengal. It is likely that he had the monastery’s huge library at his disposal when he made his complication. Until the 1930’s this important work was unknown when another Buddhist monk, the great Rahula Sankrityayan (one of my heroes), found a manuscript of it in monastery barn during one of his journeys to Tibet. The manuscript must have been taken from India to Tibet in ancient times, almost certainly by a monk, kept there for centuries, eventually forgotten about, rediscovered and then thrown away in the barn. Vidyakara selected the cream of the verses from numerous poems he knew and arranged them in chapters such as The Sun, Spring, Old Age, Good Men, Breezes, Peace and The Lamp. The first three chapters are devoted to the Buddha and the bodhisattvas. Verse 4 compares Siva’s killing of the God of Love with the Buddha’s way of handling the same deity -

Passion and anger both are states
hostile to self-control.
What then did Siva hope to gain
By slaying Karma in anger?
Rather may he who by forbearance
quelled Karma together with a hundred foes,
That chief of saints, the Buddha,
Point you to your welfare.

This is one praises Avalokitesvara.

All-conquering is the Savior of the World.
His lotus hand, stretched down in compassion,
Is dripping streams of nectar to assuage
The thirsty spirits of the dead.
His glorious face is bright with gathered moonlight
And his glance is soft
With that pity that he bears within.

The beauties of nature and the natural world feature much in the anthology.

What use, asoka tree, is your humility of branch,
Your height, your close shade,
Your gracefulness of foliage or your brilliant flowers?
The unhappy travelers gather at your base,
However great their longing as they praise you,
They still get no fruit.

It does not roar or thunder,
It spills no hail nor scatters lightening,
It unlooses no vast wind.
The great rain cloud simply rains.

Vidyakara included in his anthology 25 verses by the monk Bhartrhari, one of ancient India’s most readable poets. I think I would have liked old Bhartrhari. He had a touch of the skeptic in him. When not preoccupied with the philosophy of language he was wavered between desire for the world and the life of renunciation; he was maudlin and devote, curious and half-hearted, all at the same time (a bit like me). Hear is a sample of some of his less jaundiced verse –

Happy are those who in some mountain dale
Sit meditating on the highest light,
The fearless birds alighting in their lap
To drink their tears of joy.
But here I sit in a pavilion
Set in a pleasure garden by a pool
Within the palace of my daydreams
And as I daydream I grow old.

We praise the gods, but they are in the power of fate;
So fate deserves our praise. But fate can only give
The inevitable fruit of any given kamma.
If fruit is bound to kamma, what use the gods and fate?
Therefore, give all your praise to virtuous deeds, for over them
Not even fate has power.

If one fails to take to wife such learning
As may be worthy of his family and thereby
Does not beget that noble child Resplendence,
Or then who fails with gentle love to give that child
In marriage to one who seeks her, deserves our scorn
If to himself he should apply the name a man.

In the man of honor he finds coldness,
In the zealous man hypocrisy;
In the pure, deceit; in the brave, cruelty.
He counts the honest man a simpleton, the kindly-spoken servile,
The brilliant proud, the eloquent talkative,
And one unswayed by passion impotent.
Thus, of the virtuous what virtue
Is by the villain not condemned?

Daniel Ingalls translation of the Subhasitaratnakosa was published in 1965 under the title of An Anthology of Sanskrit Court Poetry to the delight of Sanskrit lovers, but has hardly been easy to get a hold of since. I found a copy in a second-hand book-shop in London a few years ago but didn’t have the money to buy it. I asked the proprietor if I could chant a blessing for him in lieu of payment, but he refused. Now an abbreviated edition of it has been published and I found a copy in a book-shop just the other day. It’s just called Sanskrit Poetry and is published by Harvard University Press.

Joseph Rock

You have probably never heard of Joseph Rock. He was an Austrian/American botanist you spent much of the 1920’s 30’s and 40’s living in and traveling through eastern Tibet and south-west China. When I was in my early teens I found a box of old National Geographic magazines in which there were several articles by Rock. They showed nomads and lamas, mountain passes and high plateaus, Buddha images and wild-looking nomads. I was utterly fascinated. In fact, I think it was Joseph Rock’s images that first focused my attention on the ‘mysterious East’ which in turn lead to an interest in Tibet, then in Buddhism and finally to me becoming a Buddhist monk. Now, after 32 years as a monk, living mainly in Asia, I have absolutely no illusions about either the ‘East’ or Buddhism, other than that most people’s ideas about both are exactly that – illusions.
I recently stumbled across two websites about Rock. The first is prateka.org/rock/ which is an archive of hundreds of his photos. The other, even more interesting, is by an Australian named Michael who has retraced Rock’s many journeys and has juxtaposed his photos with Rock’s old ones. Have a look at drjosephrock.blogspot.com. It is one of the most absorbing sites I have so far found on the internet. Both sites are a reminder of my adolescent flights of fancy and also a ‘then-and-now’ record of a remote and forgotten part of the Buddhist world. They made me want to put on my trekking boots and go wandering. They made me wish I was born then (maybe I was) so I could have visited those places before the modern world so rudely interrupted. Here are some of Joseph Rock’s images.

Food of Enlightenment

Four days after the Buddha attained enlightenment the leaders of a merchants caravan, Tapussa and Bhallika, happened to see him as he sat under the Bodhi Tree. They stopped, dug into their rations, prepared a dish of mantha and madhupindika, and offered it to him (Vin.I,4). The day before the Buddha passed into final Nirvana he said that the two most blessed alms-giving one could make were one made after which someone attains enlightenment and the one after which a Tathagata attains final Nirvana (D.II,136). Given this statement one would expect there to be a story about someone offering the Buddha something before he was enlightened – but there is not. Maybe some of you will ask, “But what about Sujata and her milk rice?” But this story is not in the Tipitaka and thus is probably a later legend. Could it be that the Sujata story was created to ‘complete the circle’ as it were, and to balance the story about Cunda’s offering? I’ll leave it to others to work out. Here I would like to give some thought to exactly what it was that the Buddha was offered and ate just after his enlightenment.

To make mantha first you needed sattu which was parched or roasted barley or rice flour. The grain was roughly ground and then cooked. Sattu was commonly taken by people when they went on a journey; it enabled a filling meal to be prepared with only a little cooking (Ja.III,343; Vin.IV,80). Sattu was mixed with water or sometimes milk and then boiled, proberly with a pinch of salt, and this produced a thick gruel or porridge. Manthu could be eaten together with something else; in the case of the Buddha, with madhupindika. Madhu means honey or more broadly, ‘sweet;’ pinda means a ball or a lump. So madhupindika could refer to a lump of honeycomb but this seems unlikely in this case given that this food would be awkward to carry. I think it is much more likely that madhupindika was the same as a food called laddu in Bihar and ata laddu in UP. Both sweets are made out of cooked grains or pulses soaked in sugar syrup and made into balls. Alternatively, madhupindika may have been the same as what is called gulab jamu throughout northern India. This ball-shaped sweet is made from dough and milk solids fried in ghee and then soaked in syrup. Ananda described madhupindika as having ‘a sweet delicious flavor’ (M.I,114) and anyone who has ever eaten any type of laddu or gulab jamu would agree that this is a pretty good description of these sweets.

According to the Jataka commentary after Tapussa and Bhallika made their offering to the Buddha he gave them a few strands of his hair. When the Chinese pilgrim Husian Tsiang was in a town near Balkh in northern Afghanistan he saw a stupa which supposedly enshrined these hairs. A slightly later legend says that the two merchants were Sinhalese and enshrined the hairs they were given in the beautiful little stupa at Tiriyaya on the north-east coast of Sri Lanka. The most recent of these legends, from Burma, says that Tapussa and Bhallika were from that country and the two hairs the Buddha gave them were enshrined in the Shwedagon Pagoda in Rangoon. If I recall correctly, the Shwedagon Pagoda is not mentioned in any records until the 13th century and there is no mention of its Tapussa and Bhallika associations until the 15th century. As with most legends there are many versions of this one and you can take your pick. The Dhamma, the Truth, is different. It is one (ekham hi saccam ne dutiyam atthi, Sn. 884) and its best if we always be clear about the distinctions between the two.
The accompanying picture is a Burmese depiction of the legend. The other pictures are of barley flour and of gulab jamu. Eek! I need a glass of water!

Pali Erotics

Virtually every reference to sex in the Pali Tipitaka is condemnatory. However, there are two passages which could be said to have a mildly erotic content. The first of these are the unusual verses in the Sakkapanha Sutta of the Digha Nikaya which compare sexual love to spiritual attainments. I reproduce Walshe's translation from The Long Discourses of the Buddha.

Lady, your father Timbaru greet,
Oh Sunshine fair, I give honor to you
By whom was sired a maid as fair as you
Who are the cause of all my hearts delight.
Delightful as the breeze to one who sweats,
Or as the cooling draught to one who thirsts,
Your radiant beauty is to me as dear
As the Dhamma is to Arahats.
Just as medicine to one who's ill,
Or nourishment to one who's starving still,
Bring me, gracious lady, sweet release
With water cool from my consuming flames.
The elephant, oppressed by summer heat,
Seeks out a lotus-pool upon which float
Petals and pollen of that flower,
So into your bosom sweet I'd plunge.
As an elephant, urged on by the goad,
Pays no heed to pricks of lance and spear,
So I, unheeding, know not what I do,
Intoxicated by your beauteous form.
By you my heart is tightly bound in bonds,
All my thoughts are quite transformed, and I
Can no longer find my former course:
I'm like a fish that's caught on baited hook.
Come, embrace me, maiden fair of thighs,
Seize and hold me with your lovely gaze,
Take me in your arms, it's all I ask!
My desire was slight at first, O maid
Of waving tresses, but it grew apace,
As grows the gifts that Arahats receive.
Whatever merit I have gained by gifts
To those Noble Ones, may my reward
When it ripens, be your love, most fair!
As the Sakyans' Son in jhana rapt
Intent and mindful, seeks the deathless goal,
Thus intent I seek your love, my Sun.
Just as that sage would be rejoiced, if he
Were to gain supreme enlightenment,
So I'd rejoice to be made one with you.
If Sakka, Lord of Three-and-Thirty Gods
Were perchance to grant a boon to me,
It's you I'd crave, my love for you is so strong.
Your father, maid so wise, I venerate
Like a sal-tree fairly blossoming,

For his offspring's sake, so sweet and fair (D.II,265-7).

The second collection of verses with erotic content is found in a story from the Jataka. The story is a simple one. The Bodhisattva was an ascetic living in the Himalayas. He used to urinate in a particular pond and being celibate his semen would sometimes pass out with his urine. One day a doe quenched her thirst in the pond, became pregnant and eventually gave birth to a boy. The Bodhisattva took the boy, named him Isisinga and brought him up. The child grew up and later developed meditation to the stage where if he but looked at the sky the clouds would dry up. Without knowing it he caused a terrible drought. The king, desperate to save his parched land and coming to know that Isisinga was responsible, consulted Indra about what to do. Indra recommended destroying Isisinga's virtue and thereby his meditative power by having Nalinika, the king's daughter, seduce the young ascetic. Nalinika arrives at the Bodhisattva's hermitage while his father was away and got to work on Isisinga straight away. Never having seen a female before and being completely innocent Isisinga thought that Nalinika was a young man. H. T. Francis who translated this Jataka for the Pali Text Society considered these verses from the next part of the story so rude that he simply left them out. I think this is the first time they have been translated into English.

Isisinga - What is this between your thighs?
I am asking you to please tell me. Is your penis inside your body?
Nalinika - When I was going in the forest searching for roots and fruit
a fierce bear attacked me, jumped on me and bit off my penis.
Now the wound is itching and irritated so that I never get any relief.
Perhaps you can sooth my urge to itch it.
Please do what brahmans are supposed to do.
Narrator - Having believed her lies to be the truth he said, 'If it will give you relief I will do it'
and looking at the wound carefully he continued -
Isisinga - Your wound is red, it looks serious.
It is not infected but it does have an odor.
I will prepare some medicine for you
so that you will be completely healed.
Nalinika - Brahman students should not practice spells and medicine.
So why not use your own soft penis to stop the itching?
Then it will be completely healed (Ja.V,197-8).

The inevitable happens. The young ascetic looses his virginity and with it his spiritual power, it rains and Nalinka quickly disappears from the scene. Soon Isisinga is pining for his beautiful 'youth' so much so that he neglects his duties. His father, the Bodhisattva, returns, sees that the hermitage is neglected and asks his son what's wrong with him. In the next 16 verses Isisinga describes the 'young man' he had met and in doing so gives a detailed and fascinating description of the ancient Indian concept of feminine beauty and of the jewelry and clothes women wore. Then Isisinga says; "The bear wounded him and he asked 'Please cure me.' So I did and in doing so I too was healed" (Ja.V,204). The Bodhisattva is worldly-wise enough to know exactly what had happened and warned his son to avoid such 'young men' in the future.

Famous Last Words

“Ananda, it may be that you think; “The Teacher’s instruction have ceased, now we have no teacher!’ But it should not be seen like this. Let the Dhamma and discipline that I have taught you be your teacher after my passing.” Then the Lord said to the monks “Now I declare to you, all conditioned things are of a nature to decay. Strive on with diligence!” These were the Tathagata’s last words (D.II,156).

Insults

How to Insult Someone in Pali
It’s always useful to have a few good insults up your sleeve. You never know when you might need them. The Tipitaka can provide you with a rather rich store of insults, abusive retorts and swear words? We get familiar ones like ‘Donkey!’ ‘Ox!’ and ‘Camel!’ (Vin.IV,12). To call someone ‘Shorty!’ or ‘Stretch!’ was considered a bit rude too (Vin.IV,7). You could pass aspersions on someone by saying “Your father and mother must be dead!” (atumari matumari) or by calling them “the son of a childless mother!” (puttamataya putta) and as today, calling a woman a whore (bandhakini) would be taken very badly indeed (M.I,449;I,524; Vin.IV,24). One of my favorite insults is ‘Deer shit!’ (Migalandika, Vin.III,68) Deer? Why deer feaces? One could understand pig shit, dog shit or even bull shit. But deer shit? I find this rather genteel. A person’s color or social status could be disparaged or doubted and the ancients had no compulsions about using the equivalent to what the Americans delicately call ‘the N word.’ The various ascetics, priests and monks were pretty good at exchanging insults and “stabbing each other with verbal daggers” too (M.I,320). Brahmins often referred to the Buddha’s ordained disciples as “bald-headed menial monks” (mundaka samanaka ibbha, D.I,90) and “the scrapings of our kinsmen’s foot” (bandhupad’pacca, D.I,90).
I often notice the difference between the Buddha as he is sometimes thought of being in popular New Age-like imagination and how he is portrayed in the earliest records. In the former he is a benignly smiling sage who graciously approves of all beliefs no matter how silly or unsubstantiated and even if he does disapprove of any (God forbid!) he would never be so impolite, so nasty, so unchangeling as to say so. In the latter he has a clear and precise vision of Truth and of right and wrong and is not afraid to say so, although he nearly always does this at an appropriate time and in a gentle, polite manner. But not always. When the Buddha heard that the monk Arittha was going around saying that indulging in sense pleasures is not really a hindrance to liberation (all self-proclaimed ‘tantric’ practitioners please note) he repeatedly called him ‘Stupid man!’ (moha purisa, M.I,132) Actually this is more a rebuke than an insult but it sometimes got a bit stronger than this. He said a lay disciples who believed in and practiced various superstitions would be outcaste (candala), the filth (mala), the scum (patikittha) of the lay community (A.III,206). After Devadatta’s plots and schemes the Buddha called him a chavassakhelapakassa to his face (Vin.II,188). Now there is some uncertainty as to exactly what this term means but there is no doubt that it would qualify as strong language. Miss Horner translates it as “wretched one to be vomited out like spittle!” According to the PTS Dictionary chava = corpse or wretched, and khelapaka = something like ‘phlegm-eater. How about ‘Deadbeat lickspittle!’?
The Tipitaka only gives a few examples of a physical gesture used to insult someone, e.g. to snap your fingers at them (D.II,96). Apparently shaking your head and waggling your tongue after someone had told you something was a way of saying “You are talking through your hat” (M.I,109)
Perhaps because I am an Australian I find all this rather mild and I suspect the Buddha’s contemporaries, or at least the circles he moved in, were generally a polite and urbane lot. Narendra Wangle’s excellent Society at the Time of the Buddha (the revised edition, 1995) has several sections analyzing all the modes of address used by the different groups and classes within society. It shows that subtle put downs and deliberate slips of the tongue were far more common that outright insults – e.g. to address someone socially superior to oneself in terms properly used for someone equal to or inferior to oneself.

Bon Appetit

Nothing like a crisis to help you get things in perspective. Take the current world-wide food shortage. Of course the people in poor countries will suffer much more than in rich countries but even there the tripling of food prices is starting to make people sit up and take notice. Walking down Orchard Rd just yesterday I saw a large advertisement for an up-market shopping centre. It showed a young woman lounging of her couch looking at dozens of pairs of shoes scattered on the floor. The caption read ‘Spoiled for Choice.’ I wonder how this sign would go down if a boring, prosaic, ho-hum thing like rice suddenly became unavailable? There was a thing on the TV a few weeks ago about a guy who conducts courses teaching Singaporeans how to appreciate wine. You know the sort of thing - which wine to eat with what sort of meat, how to sniff it properly before drinking it, how to impress the waiter or your girlfriend by ordering a type of wine they have ever heard of. I wonder how quickly all this would become irreverent if the supply of rice dried up? I’m not saying that a veneer of ‘polish’ of ‘sophistication’ or of ‘style’ is not good. It is. But it is just a veneer and sometimes its good to be reminded of this. Helps you keep things in perspective. Brings home to you what is really important in life. What seemed so complicated before now looks quite simple. It also makes the the famous statement “All beings subsist on food” and the Buddha’s observation “the body comes into being because of food and is dependent on food” (A.II, 146) a bit more profound than they might appear on first reading. Ultimately its all about food. Food comes first and everything else later, sometimes much later. In the final analysis its about rice, wheat, salt and water. Man may not be able to live by bread alone, as the Bible contends, although many people seem to do so quite happily. But he certainly can’t live without it! That’s why the Buddha asked us to do a brief contemplation on the food we are about to eat. I always do the one mentioned in the Tipitaka. “I will be moderate in eating, I will reflect wisely and I will not take food for amusement, for intoxication, for physical beauty or for attractiveness, but only for the sake of the strengthening and continuing of the body, for ending the discomfort of hunger, for assisting in living the holy life and while thinking; “Thus I will end the old feelings without arousing new ones and I shall be healthy, blameless and live in comfort’” (e.g. M.I,273).