Mangala: Chapter Five

Page 1 of 15

Author's Note

This story is intended to be both a partner to the novel ‘The Pilgrim Kamanita,’ written by Karl Gjellerup in 1906, and a tale that stands on its own. There is no need to have read the earlier book in order to make sense of this one, however, should you wish to go to the source from which many of the characters and scenes of this tale have sprung, an English version of it is to be found on this same web-site at http://www.abhayagiri.org/main/book/366/.

This book is being published here as a ‘serial novel,’ which is to say that it that it will appear one chapter at a time, on the first day of every month, over the next couple of years. The plan is that, after the entire twenty-six chapters of the story have been released, a pdf file of the complete book will be posted, and available for free download.

Finally, gentle reader, please note that the original author (Karl Gjellerup) switched freely between using Sanskrit (the language of the Northern Buddhist and Hindu scriptures) and Pali (the language of the Southern Buddhist scriptures) during the course of his tale. In our efforts to be true to his original style we have maintained this mixture of usage.

Amaro Bhikkhu
Abhayagiri Monastery
December 2008

* * *

Chapter Five – The Royal Progress

ing Udena found himself walking along a country road. The land around him seemed familiar yet there was something strange about it all as well. He then realized that, customarily, he never walked anywhere outside the palace, he was always on his elephant Bhaddavatika , or on a horse or in a palanquin – why was he on foot? And where was everyone else? As a warrior-noble king he always had his guards, at least a dozen servants… yet it also seemed so normal. He paced along amid the trees and the winter sunlight – looking just as they had done in the terrain they Page 2 of 15

had been passing through these last few days. He could feel the dusty ground against the soles of his feet and the cool morning breeze stirred the loose white tunic and pantaloons he was wearing.

“I wonder where I left my sword. And why do I feel so light – should I not have my armbands, rings and bracelets? But it does feel delightful here, anyway.”

As he pondered these curious feelings and oddities in his well-regulated world, he rounded a bend and saw a huge banyan beside the road; it was a sacred tree-shrine and, kneeling before it, facing the road was a small girl of astonishing beauty. She had large round eyes and radiant golden skin, she was clad in garments of pure white, like his own but she was arrayed like a deva-princess. A diadem sparkled on her brow like sunlight shining through prisms of morning dew. Her necklaces and bracelets, earrings and hand-jewels were all wrought of finest gold and were studded in swirling, knotted patterns with gems of countless hues.

She held something in her hands, raised up to the level of her chin, just as his serving-maids would do when offering him some refreshment or a bauble he might fancy. He drew closer and saw that it was in the shape of a golden wheel. It seemed to fit neatly in the cup of her raised palms yet, at the same time it was huge and was slowly turning.

“How can this be?” His mind groped in the shadowy chambers of reason and memory, “it rests on her hands like a jeweled plate, but it is vast, ten times her size and surely it will crush her as it spins…” But it did not.

The child raised her eyes to meet his own. On her face was a gentle beautiful smile, she was obviously unawed by him and he felt strangely ill-at-ease. “This is for you, if you would like it,” she said, offering up the golden wheel.

“What will it cost me?” the King suspiciously replied.

Page 3 of 15

“It is yours for the taking but, if you cannot give up being driven by pride and anger, hatred, greed and delusion, then it will be as if it was in another world.”

“I’m not sure about the price.”

“The price of what, Messire?”

“What?!” The King’s eyes burst open, fraught and staring for a moment, glancing to every corner round about him.

“What price are you not sure about? You spoke loudly in your sleep, Your Majesty.”

“I what? Oh. Yes.” He blinked to try to shake off the images of the dream but when his eyes were closed, the soft, half-quizzical features of the golden child still hung there. He shook his mane of crow-black hair and breathed deep. Soon the girl faded from his consciousness – gone, yet not completely, like an unanswerable question half-remembered.

“I just had a most extraordinary dream. It was not a cauchemar – full of horrors and death – but it was eerie, so vivid.” He was now trying also to remember the name of the concubine who was sharing his couch in the royal pavilion.

It was still before dawn and she drew close to comfort and distract him from the visitation that had disturbed him so much. He also wanted to be comforted, by this girl from his harem, but something about the dream was too compelling. He lay there in the quiet, before the first birds called, and stared at the folds of his silken roof.

* * *

Maggot felt very pleased with herself. She had gone off on a food-hunt to find some supplies for them all for breakfast. Bee was guarding the little girl while she slept and Ant had gone to try and trace the missing sister; before they had all parted company it had been agreed that the best plan was to somehow bring the children into the care of some adult humans and see if they could help them find their father in Kosambi. When Maggot had been talking with the old rukkha-deva Page 4 of 15

in the banyan, she had told her that there was news of a party of the royals camped on the road nearby. She had soon tracked them down and then managed to plant some dreams about Amba in the minds of a couple of the people there.

“I just chose the two biggest tents, which also had loads of guards and the most decorations on them. It turned out that one was owned by the King and the other held our friend the Minister, Lord Ghosaka, whose park we live in, in Kosambi. You never know exactly how a dream is going to turn out in someone – it always mixes with their own karma and their own fears and desires – but both of them should have seen our little friend here clearly. With a bit of luck that will persuade them to help her out rather than just leave her by the roadside.”

“Well done,” grunted Bee, “and amidst all of the magic did you manage to conjure up anything to eat?” She was still only half-convinced that they should be getting so mixed up with humans and, despite having the quasi-ethereal kind of body that all kinnari do, she was blessed with a healthy appetite as well.

“Ta-dah!” Maggot unfastened a spider-silk bag from her back and swung it down onto the ground between them. “Half a dozen different fruits for young Amba; three large flasks of nectar – one I brought along and two freshly gathered this fair day – and several handfuls of pollen, both on the flower and off. What d’you think?”

Bee grinned broadly, “What a busy little Pinkie you have been!”

“Oh shut up! I don’t think you deserve any of this if you’re going to be like that,” said Maggot, passing her one of the flasks.

The dawn was rapidly breaking now and, with the growing light, the riot of birdsong and the banter of the two kinnari, it was not long before Amba stirred and hauled herself up onto her elbows. She looked Page 5 of 15

around, taking in the fact that the new-found friends of the night before were still there and that her mother laid stiff and cold beside her.

She felt uncertain as to what she should do, until Maggot beckoned her over to have some food and Bee moved across to tidy up the wraps around her mother’s body. She folded the cloth neatly about the corpse, framing her face and placing some flowers in her hands, now resting together upon her chest.

Amba watched closely as Bee arranged things in this careful and loving way and, when all was complete, she felt at ease to turn away and join Maggot who was preparing food nearby. She had peeled and cut up the various fruits and, using a broad waxy leaf as a plate, had arranged them in a spiral of modulating colours.

“How did you do that?” wondered Amba in amazement – it looked more exotic and splendid than even when her father had held great banquets at their palace, and had hired the greatest cooks of all Avanti.

“Do what?” asked Maggot, puzzled at her wonderment.

“Make such a beautiful pattern; it’s like a fairy whirlpool.”

“It’s just food – this is how we always arrange things – it’s nothing special.” Amba was about to ask them if they could teach her how to make such lovely shapes when a glum-faced and breathless Ant arrived at the camp. Even her garments of kanavera flower-gauze, and the deep red blossoms that adorned her, seemed dim and droopy, woebegone.

“Well, I failed miserably” – her body settled slowly to the ground like frail petals or dandelion down drifting to the forest floor; when she had fully landed she was forlorn and slumped. It took her a moment to shake off the mood.

“The girl left a bit of a trail but it crossed back and forth, hither and yon; I found a few different villages she might have gone to but no reliable sign of her at all, as far as I could tell.
Page 6 of 15


“I thought that I’d better come and let you know so that you wouldn’t be expecting her soon – also it’s near full light now and all the humans are up, and I really don’t like being around crowds of them too much.”

“Why’s that?” asked Amba, surprised since they seemed happy to be with her.

“Well…” began Ant.

“It’s sort of…”

“The fact is…”

“The fact is,” said Bee, diving into the delicate subject, “that to devas most humans stink pretty badly. It’s only the ones who are kind and virtuous that we find bearable – actually you smell very nice.”

“Well, thank you very much!” Amba was unsure whether to feel complimented or offended.

“The King’s tent, where I just was, for all its incense and perfumes, was like a slaughterhouse at the end of a hot market-day, to my nose,” said Maggot, “beings in different realms perceive things in very different ways – like the fruits I gave you: to you it was amazing, to me, I thought it was a bit slapdash and that the colours were not balanced… it all depends.”

“Anyway, smells or no, we’ll see if we can find her for you before we have to get back to our homes in Lord Ghosaka’s park.”

* * *

While Ant had some breakfast and rested, Bee took a look at Amba’s foot, which had begun to throb noticeably again now that she was up and about. “Nasty,” Bee wrinkled her nostrils in undisguised disgust, “We’re going to need to do some serious doctoring here.”

Amba blanched. “No, don’t be frightened; I may be gruff but I wouldn’t chop your foot off – not unless I had to, anyway.” She smiled warmly and managed to put Amba at her ease. “Maggot, did you see any all-heal around here? I’ll mop this up if you see what you can find.”

Bee poured some water from the gourd into one of the empty nectar flasks and held it in her hand. She closed her Page 7 of 15

eyes for a few moments and the spout began to send forth some fumes. “There we go. Now this will sting a bit while I mop it out.” To Amba’s surprise the water that Bee swabbed the wound with was quite hot – there was also a sharp pain from something in the flower she used to wipe her foot with. “Nature’s own cleanser,” Bee commented, anticipating the question, “very handy for healing hobbling humans.”

“You fairies are good at so many things – how did you learn all this even though you’re so young? You don’t look that much older than me but I hardly know how to do anything.”

“For starters,” grumbled Bee through her teeth, “if you don’t want me to chop your foot off, you’ll stop calling us sodding ’fairies‘– we are kinnaris, can you remember that?” She narrowed her eyes and glared at Amba playfully.

“And, as for our age, you know how Maggot was saying that it’s not the same from one realm to another. Well, I am the youngest of us three but I am 98 sun-turnings old, Ant is 103, I believe, and Maggot is a grand old lady of 115 – actually we’re all still very young in kinnari terms, our usual life-span is about 1000 sun-turnings.”

“What’s a ‘sun-turning’?”

“You know, the time it takes for the seasons to come back to where they were, so the sun appears in the same place in the sky again.”

“So you’re 98 years old?!”

“That’s right, still a youngster, like you,” chortled Bee.

While they had been talking she had been making up a poultice from the leaves and flowers Maggot found for her. She now packed these around the cleansed wound and tied it on tight with some of the spider-silk cloth they had with them. She had just finished with the dressing and had declared Amba fit to walk around, when all of them caught the sound of movement on the road, carried to them on the wind.

Maggot Page 8 of 15

dashed up to the top of the bank, by the ancient banyan, and saw that it was the royal party on its way. There were glittering ranks of cavalry in the front, these were followed by several great elephants and behind them came a phalanx of gaily decked palanquins and gilded carriages. Another guard of horsemen held the rear and on both sides of the richly caparisoned assembly, numerous servants, maids, wagons, bearers and pack-animals completed in the throng.

Atop the lead elephant, seated in the full majesty in his howdah, sat King Udena looking stern.

After waking he had been unable to stop turning his strange dream over and over in his mind so he had had the whole camp roused early and set in motion. When he broke his fast and conferred with Lord Ghosaka, as he often did, he told him of the dream and asked him what he thought it meant.

“I know not what it might mean, Your Majesty, but I will tell you that things are now doubly strange.” The King was not easily amused at the best of times but cryptic statements that he failed to follow irked him more than anything. He was about to bark at Ghosaka when the latter called forward his own man-servant, Mitta, ”Please recount to His Majesty the dream I told you of this morning – and be a good chap and keep it brief.”

“Lord Ghosaka told me, Messire, that he dreamed he was walking down this very road, with bare feet and in plain white clothes when a little girl, all dressed up like a princess and kneeling by the verge, stopped him and gave him a mango.”

“Were you listening just now, as I spoke with your master?” The King’s eyes grew flinty and cold with an icy fire – he would not be duped.

“Why no, Messire, I was attending to the staff, getting them to hurry up and break camp, just as Your Majesty ordered.” His utter openness and freedom from guile, with which the King Page 9 of 15

was familiar, served him well here and the King, against his better (that is, suspicious) nature, decide to believe him. He said no more.


* * *

Maggot hurried back down to the others to let them know the King and his party were on their way. “Amba, you just go up and stand by the big old banyan tree there. This man who is coming is King Udena, ruler of Vamsa; Kosambi is the capital city there. The three of us live in a big park owned by the Minister Ghosaka. With a little luck they will stop when they see you by the road and then take you to Kosambi. Quickly now, let’s go.”

It was all such a flurry that she hardly had time to gather her wits let alone ask why such grand people might stop for her and pick her up; so far on the road she had seen that the richer the traffic, the less likely they were even to acknowledge her family’s existence. She limped up the slope and stood on the verge nonetheless, in front of the great tree where she could not be missed.

The grand procession approached. Amba stared with wide-open eyes, enchanted by the flashing colours and the noble mien of the soldiers, the pounding of the great drums and the golden draperies and bright jewels that covered the King’s stately elephant. She raised her gaze and met his piercing stare – fierce, yet somehow frightened too, although she would not have named it as such – the contact resonated between the two of them then, without a further thought the King called “Halt!”

He was not, as a proud kshatriya, a warrior-noble king, accustomed to looking behind him but, at this moment he turned fully round and peered into the eyes of the Minister Ghosaka on the next elephant. He raised one eyebrow. Ghosaka flicked his attention onto the ragged child by the roadside and, returning his look nodded his head almost imperceptibly.

* * *

“Down!” Bhaddavatika, the aged Page 10 of 15

and noble elephant, gently bent her four knees and brought the King to the level of the road. He dismounted and beckoned Ghosaka to join him as he went to speak to the little girl. The rest of the royal party were filled with curiosity as to why they might have stopped – the King was not noted for making offerings at spirit-shrines and it certainly could not be anything to do with this beggar-child.

As the two grandly-dressed men approached they could both see, beyond a doubt, that this was the very person they had met in their dreams, although here they were in their finery and she was a ragamuffin, not a deva-princess.

“What’s your name, child, and what brings you all alone to such a place in the wildwood?”

“My name is Amba, Your Majesty” she said, trying to bow like she had done when the King of Avanti had visited their home. The Minister heard her name and a broad smile crept across his face, “So you are the little mango,” he murmured to himself.

“And I’m here because my mother and my sister were trying to see my father who became a monk and we got so far but last night my mum got bit by a snake and she died but we didn’t know it and Tamba that’s my sister she ran to get help ‘cos I’ve got a cut foot but she never came back and then during the night we got attacked by a big yakkha and then three fairies came along and they saved us from getting eaten they were so brave and then this morning they got me fruits for breakfast they had pollen and nectar and one of them who’s really rude but also really nice she fixed my foot and it’s much better now and then they said you were coming Your Majesty and that if I was lucky you’d take me to Kosambi and please can you also help to find my sister ‘cos I think she’s lost and she might be hurt Page 11 of 15

too.” She paused for breath.

“Hmmm…,” said the King thoroughly unimpressed “that’s quite a story, young lady – your mother dying, attacked by a yakkha…”

“But it’s true! He was going to bludgeon us all to death, the fairies too, and he was going to eat us.”

“Ahem,” interrupted Ghosaka, “It’s true, Your Majesty.”

“Sorry,” Amba corrected herself, “It’s true, Your Majesty. If you don’t believe me you can see, my mother’s body is just over there, by the stream. And the fairies, err, kinnari are right here,” she indicated the three of them, beside the old tree; they all paid their respects to the King but he looked furrow-browed and seemed to stare around or through them. He nevertheless sent some soldiers down the path where they soon found Sita’s body and then brought it up to lie beside the road.

“Well, I’m not usually in the habit of rescuing lost waifs but it seems that you spoke the truth about your mother, and you will certainly come to grief if we leave you here. You have my permission to join us – Ghosaka, see that she’s taken care of.”

“Certainly, Messire,” he then caught the glance of the King which he knew meant he had just recollected the dream again; he guessed the King’s train of thought and asked, “Child, did your mother not have any jewellery or precious things she was carrying – she is quite bereft of decoration now. Were things hidden, or stolen from you perhaps?”

“No, Your Lordship, she only had a few jewels but she had to sell everything just so that we could have some food.”

Lord Ghosaka had no clear idea of what the golden wheel, inexorably turning, might have meant – it seemingly hadn’t been referring to ordinary jewellery – he had the strange intuition that this element had been the most significant feature of the King’s dream yet he could not put a finger on any reason why this should be so.

He looked toward King Udena, Page 12 of 15

who merely raised a part of his upper lip in one of his various types of sneer. He directed the men to make a bier to carry Sita on and called Mitta over to take charge of the new addition to the household. The King was striding away to remount his elephant when Amba, suddenly recalling her sister’s plight, cried out, “Your Majesty, Sire, what about Tamba, my sister, she’s lost in the forest somewhere. We can’t leave without her!”

Turning around for the second time that morning, with a mixture of wry amusement and vexed impatience he replied, “Surprising as it may be to you, young lady, we, as a monarch wielding absolute power, are not in the habit of receiving orders from small urchins, regardless of their ability to tell tall tales.” To his own surprise, however, he ordered the captain of the guard to send out a small search party but he also directed that they were to join the main group within the hour, whether or not they found the girl.

“The royal progress is not to be delayed. The guard will seek her and, if she can be found, they will bring her to us. Have no fear.”


≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡

Notes and References:

Chapter 5

1. Page 52 — King Udena… This monarch was the ruler of Vamsa, the land between the River Ganga and the River Yamuna. He appears in several Suttas and Jatakas. He is usually presented as having a somewhat ambivalent relationship to the Buddha and his teaching, the Dhamma. In Jat. §497 he is a proud and angry son of the Bodhisattva, the Buddha in one of his previous lives; during the era of the current Buddha he gets angry at both Pindola and Ānanda for being with the women of the royal harem and teaching them in the park.
In the Mahāyana, Northern Buddhist tradition he is represented as being much more devoted to the Buddha – when the Buddha went to the Tavatimsa Heaven for three months, to teach the devata who Page 13 of 15

had been his mother, King Udena is said to have had the first Buddha-image ever made, to be an object of devotion and to serve him as a reminder while the Buddha was away (see S.H. Wriggins, ‘Xuanzang – A Buddhist Pilgrim on the Silk Road,’ pp 87 & 188)
A lot of his story, and the source for much of this tale, is to be found in The Story Cycle of King Udena in the Dhammapada Commentary to verses 21-3 (see ‘Buddhist Legends Vol I,’ translated by E.W. Burlingame, pp 247-293).

2. Page 52 — his elephant Bhaddavatikā… She is mentioned in Jat. §409 and other places in the Suttas.

3. Page 53 — a golden wheel… was slowly turning… The wheel is a symbol of the Dhamma, the teaching of the Buddha. The first teaching that he gave, in the deer park near Varanasi, is known as the ‘Dhamma-cakkappavattana Sutta’ – The Discourse on Setting in Motion the Wheel of the Dhamma.

4. Page 54 — the Minister, Lord Ghosaka… Like King Udena, Ghosaka appears in many places in the Buddhist scriptures. He later became a major supporter of the Buddha and his monastic community.

5. Page 54 — several handfuls of pollen… As is mentioned in Jat. §485, where it says that the Bodhisattva: “wandered about, anointing himself with perfumes, eating the pollen of flowers, clothing himself in flower-gauze… swinging in the creepers to amuse himself, singing songs in a honey voice.” (See also Jat. §540).

6. Page 55 — the greatest cooks of all Avanti… Avanti was the country of which Ujjeni was the capital.

7. Page 56 — to devas most humans stink… This fact is mentioned in Ven. Ajahn Mun’s biography: “In the scriptures it says that devas do not like to be near humans because of their repugnant smell. What is this repugnant odor? If there is such an odor, why do you all come to visit me so often?”
“Human beings who have a high standard of morality are not repugnant to us. Such people have Page 14 of 15

a fragrance which inspires us to venerate them; so we never tire of coming to hear you discourse on Dhamma. Those, exuding a repulsive odor, are people whose morality stinks, for they have developed an aversion to moral virtue even though it is considered to be something exceptionally good throughout the three worlds. Instead, they prefer things that are repugnant to everyone with high moral standards. We have no desire to approach such people. They are really offensive and their stench spreads far and wide. It’s not that devas dislike humans; but this is what devas encounter and have always experienced with humans.”
‘Venerable Ācariya Mun Bhūridatta Thera – A Spiritual Biography,’ pp 132-3, by Ācariya Mahā Boowa Ñānasampanno, translated from the Thai by Bhikkhu Dick Sīlaratano.

8. Page 57 — did you see any all-heal around here?... ‘All-heal’ here is referring to Prunella vulgaris, also known as Common Self-heal, a type of mint. It is one of seven species of herbaceous plants in the family Lamiaceae, most of which are known as ‘self-heal’ or ‘all-heal,’ for their use in herbal medicine. Most are native to Europe, Asia, and North Africa.
The name ‘self-heal’ derives from their use to treat a range of minor disorders, as they have an antiseptic and antibacterial effect. The whole plant is used to treat cuts and inflammations.

9. Page 57 — the spout began to send forth some fumes… The ability to produce heat in this way, through psychic power, is something that can also be developed through meditation. A contemporary Buddhist meditation master, Dipama – an Indian lay-woman who lived in Calcutta – was known not only to be able to bake a potato in her hand in this way but (if you wanted her to) she could also make it taste like chocolate!

10. Page 57 — our usual life-span is about 1000 sun-turnings… In Jat. §504 it specifies this as an average life-span for kinnaris: “A thousand summers, strong and hale…”

11. Page 58 — his own man-servant Mitta… Like King Udena and Lord Ghosaka, Mittā Page 15 of 15

is also from the story cycle in the Dhammapada Commentary to verses 21-3. In the original story our young heroine comes to Kosambi with her parents, escaping an epidemic in Bhaddāvati. She meets Mittā at the food distributions held at Lord Ghosaka’s mansion.

12. Page 59 — a proud kshatriya… The kshatriya caste, the warrior-nobles, were one of the two highest castes in India, along with the brahmins. Their code included an injunction to kill even their own parents, if it was to their advantage to do so.
The other two castes are the vaishas, the merchants – this is the caste of Kāmanita’s whole family – and the shudras, the workers, or labouring caste. Below all of these, on the social scale of the time and still to this day despite many social reforms, are the candālas or ‘untouchables,’ more properly known these days as the dalit or ‘scheduled caste’ people.

13. Page 59 — Not… accustomed to looking behind him… To do this was considered a sign of indignity and weakness, therefore not to be done by a royal. Such customs are still observed by some royal families to this day.