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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 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

* * * * * * * * * * * *


ver and over again, in as gentle a way as she could, Samavati raised the subject of visiting Ghositarama. Once or twice His Majesty had merely snorted contemptuously, dismissing the idea as abruptly as the air from his nostrils, but to her surprise, one long languid late hot season afternoon, her husband said, “You know something my love, I might be interested to go and listen to that Sakyan monk one of these days.”

He was gazing vacantly at the ceiling of their chambers as they reclined together on a broad couch draped with muslin, cooling silks and freely strewn Page 2 of 26

with cushions. Samavati’s heart began to pound at once; her face lit up with delight at this unexpected turn in King Udena’s humour. When she met his glance though, she realized that she should not overdo her expressions of enthusiasm as she could see that already he was startled, if not slightly affronted, by the swiftness of her reaction and the unfettered joy in her eyes.

In a single breath she was able to re-establish her composure, take the King’s hand in hers and reply, “It makes me very happy that you have this thought. He really does give very good advice for all who come to see him. He has an amazing knack of being able to identify the cares of many individuals and to provide the advice that will be useful to them – whatever position someone may hold in society he offers helpful guidance on the use of their resources and opportunities, great or small. I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised at how valuable and practical his reflections on life are, even for warrior-noble kings.” She squeezed his hand affectionately and Udena, at least momentarily, rejoiced in the happiness this small favour brought her.

What Samavati failed to realize was that the motivation for her royal husband’s new found tolerance, and even interest in the Buddha’s teachings, was more guilt that he had been neglecting her than any religious inspiration. He had been spending more and more time with the fun-loving Magandiya, who seemed to adore him with a reckless abandon that he never found in Samavati. Yet when he was with his beloved, doe-eyed, serious queen something deep within him rejoiced in the goodness she exuded – he felt strangely more complete. Although, annoyingly, he was also frustrated that, in the same moment, he felt he could never really possess her – not as he could all the other members of his household, even the people of his country.

“I am lord of her body but not of her mind…” He chuckled to himself as this phrase came into consciousness. Ironically, it had been Page 3 of 26

the very one he had used to defy King Canda Pajjota of Ujjeni when he had been imprisoned by him and that king had tried to force him to reveal the elephant-charming spells that Udena was skilled in. The memory of that intense encounter welled up in his mind’s eye:

“They say you have a charm for taming and controlling elephants; will you give it to me?” said Canda Pajjota.

“Certainly, but only if you will declare subservience to me.”

“Never!”

“Then I’ll not give it to you.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll have you executed.”

“Please do so; you are the lord of my body, not of my mind.”

Samavati saw the smile on Udena’s face and asked him why he was so amused.

“Oh, just an old reminiscence – that and the wry wit of the universe which keeps handing back to us the very things we’ve created.”

She too smiled quizzically at this more-than-usually cryptic utterance of her husband but she left it at that. As they lay there quietly in the heat of the afternoon, Samavati let her mind wander freely into plan-making for a visit to her beloved monastery.


* * *

As it turned out, King Udena’s ambivalent feelings toward the Buddha and his monastic community did indeed cast an acrid pall over the Royal Visit.

First of all he had objected to Samavati’s wish to go dressed in plain white clothing and, to his aghasted horror, without any jewellery at all. Royal Displeasure had been expressed on both sides but, in her wisdom, Queen Samavati had deferred to his wishes and agreed to wear some modest earrings, bracelets and a plain gold necklace.

The Buddha greeted them very graciously and, to King Udena’s great relief, made no mention either direct or oblique of the Krishna temple in the Simsapa Grove. The King had been afraid that he would be put on the spot publicly and shamed for his off-handed rescinding of the gift he had once made.

As the Page 4 of 26

evening proceeded, he grew more and more agitated, almost in direct proportion to the devotion he saw written on his dear queen’s face. There were hundreds of people there, both monks and town folks, and almost every single one seemed fixed in rapt absorption in the words and presence of this Sakyan monk.

“Look at him!” Udena’s mind seethed, “He’s besotted with all this reverence – he’s relishing every moment of being at the centre of attention, and in the power he has over this bunch of fools.”

He turned to look at his wife beside him. In the soft light of the oil lamps that hung from the many pillars of the hall, her expression of radiant joy and serene peace irritated him beyond belief. Her eyes were closed and her hands raised, palms together at her heart, as were those of most of the assembly as they listened. The soft murmur of intuition that stirred within him, that scried the true innocence and purity of the occasion, was summarily swamped by the flood of his jealousy and pride.

“This is the last time,” he churned internally, “that I will be dragged along to this place.” He also felt aggrieved and belittled by theme of the Buddha’s teaching that night, which he attended to snatches of between his own disgruntled internal monologues. The Sakyan monk had been listing the qualities of a righteous monarch:–Well, what a coincidence! There just happens to be a king sitting here… And Udena was intimidated and felt put-upon by the daunting list of pious qualities: “A good king should display: Generosity, Morality, Altruism, Honesty, Kindness, Self-control, Non-anger, Non-violence, Forbearance, Uprightness.”

“Furthermore, one worthy of ruling the world should:
Govern by Righteousness.
Provide ward and protection to:
Those in the Emperor’s immediate circle
The armed forces
Governors and administrative officers
Royal dependents and civil servants
Brahmins, householders, craftsmen, traders
Town and country dwellers
Religious devotees
Beasts and birds.
Furthermore they should:
Prevent wrongdoing in the kingdom;
Distribute wealth to the poor;
Seek advice from sages;
And aspire to Page 5 of 26

greater virtue.”

“Well, Your Holiness, now that you’ve let everyone know that you think King Udena is angry, immoral and violent. I think it’s probably time we took our Royal Leave.” It was a sign of the actuality of his forbearance that the vexed monarch managed to keep these as ‘inside-words’ and bottled his ire for the time being; this restraint was probably aided by the fact that, all evening, the Buddha’s tone had been warm and congenial, rather than bearing any hint of being judgmental or patronizing.

His mood had also been rendered tetchy by the passage of a couple of hours since he had had his last stiffener of honey-liquor, just before the royal party had left the palace to come to Ghositarama.

He fixed his resolve based on the reflection that:– At least it makes her happy. And, in the inexorable logic of delusion, he decided that, since he had been so patient and generous, he deserved a large drink when he got back as well as a night with Magandiya.

* * *

“I don’t recall seeing those windows there before,” remarked the King as he and Magandiya wandered through the gardens, enjoying the early morning dews. They were following a path through a part of the grounds that Udena rarely walked in – for some reason their feet had carried them here on this particular day.

“What’s that, Sire?” His consort innocently replied.

“Those windows, along the upper hall of the Queen’s seraglio; in fact I remember being glad that that was a solid wall as it faced the street and thus gave more privacy to the harem. I wonder who ordered that they should be put there.”

“Perhaps the concern that those inside could look out was stronger than any anxiety about who should look in, Sire.”

“Ridiculous! Why on earth would the Queen have any reason to watch the street?”

“Who knows, Sire, some people have odd tastes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Magandiya coyly eyed the ground and Page 6 of 26

then looked up, glancing here and there into the middle-distance. “… I have to say that I have noticed, once or twice when I have been in this part of the grounds of an early morning, that Her Serene Highness and most of her womenfolk gather at those very windows, just at the time that the Sakyan monk and his gang of greedy superstition-mongerers come down the street, seeking their daily hand-out.

“I was sure she had your approval so I never said anything about it to you before, Sire. You know I make it my habit to cultivate sisterly love and respect in this household, nevertheless,” and here she spoke with her most precisely clipped brahmin accent, “I have to say I find this practice of Her Serene Highness most peculiar.”
King Udena shot her a sidelong look, keeping his silence for a few more moments as they walked along the pathway among the well-tended shrubs and trees. “Do you mean to tell me,” he began, testing his suspicions and also wondering about the motivations of his new Chief Consort, “that the Queen had those windows put in just so that she could watch that Sakyan and his flock walk by every morning?”

“It’s not for me to say, Sire, surely. I have as little respect for the Sakyan and his gang as you do – as I discern – but Queen Samavati is a lady of the highest reputation. Wouldn’t it be most appropriate to find out first if this is indeed her habit, and then to ask her yourself what has inspired this er… unusual gesture of her devotion to this object of such seemingly dubious worth.” She smiled sweetly.

At this point in their meanderings the two had reached a part of the main palace that stood separately from Queen Samavati’s seraglio. There was a small garden room that was open-sided, lying along the wall that was at right angles to the building they had just passed. King Udena took in the lay-out of this space, turned from the waist and surveyed the Page 7 of 26

windows they had been discussing. They were clearly visible from this spot.

“Let’s sit here for a while,” the King suggested and settled himself down on a long low couch. As the rising light of morning filled the air, just as the birds edged into what patches of sun they could find to warm themselves after the cool of the night, so did Queen Samavati and her ladies-in-waiting and maids gather at the row of four large windows to meet the light of their spiritual master.

At a certain point all murmurings were hushed among them and, to his great chagrin, proud King Udena saw his queen and her attendants raise their hands, palms together, in reverential salutation facing the street below. On their faces a single expression of pure devotion – a devotion of a kind that he knew he could never command. He could not see beyond the palace wall from where he sat at garden-level but there was no need to guess that it was the line of monks, with the Buddha at their head, that were being paid respect to silently as they passed. He was enraged.

“You’d think it was enough that I have allowed her to visit that charlatan at least two or three times with her father Ghosaka – dammit, I even went once myself. But even that’s not sufficient, she has to go and knock holes in the wall just so she can watch her precious guru go by, and doesn’t even care that now half of Kosambi can stare into her chambers… What else does she expect to get away with!?”

“Oh, a lot more!” snapped Magandiya then sharply caught her breath, as if she’d accidentally let some secret slip.

“And what does that mean?” Udena turned to fix her with his gaze. “Is there something else that I should know? The concealment of another’s fault binds one to the same deception, so it will go badly for you if you know of some false dealings and you do not tell it now.” His voice was Page 8 of 26

very cold and wreathed in more wariness than ever, yet he decided he would trust Magandiya.

“I shouldn’t say anything, Sire, because I have not seen it with my own eyes, but the stories are rife around the palace.

“The fact is that, for some time the Queen’s maidservant, that hunchback, has been going to listen to the monk whenever it’s been announced that he will give a talk. She goes along and, so it is said, memorizes all the words of the teaching and then recounts the contents to the Queen and all her household; every one of them, as you have seen, is devoted to that Sakyan.”

“This is not news to me – have no fear of having kept back a dreadful secret – I heard tell of this strange arrangement and have chosen to turn a blind eye.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but that’s not all there is to the tale. A few people also found it strange, and hard to believe as well, that an illiterate slave should be credited with such powers of memory and intelligence. So, the rumours have been doing the rounds that, when the slave goes out to the monastery, a veiled and plainly-dressed lady-friend goes along with her. No one says they have ever seen her face but, if that were a well-educated person and the slave was merely there as her attendant, that would explain a lot about how those talks get recollected.” She paused and felt her heart pounding; her skin was clammy with sweat despite the early hour.

* * *

King Udena barged into the Queen’s chambers without any announcement or formality. His wrath preceded him like a bow-wave and scattered all of the occupants of the women’s court as he approached.

“Kneel, woman! I want some answers,” he barked and Samavati duly sank to the floor before him.

“Who ordered these windows to be made and for what purpose?”

“It was I, Your Majesty,” Samavati replied, her expression a mixture of surprise, eagerness to please and Page 9 of 26

an imploring for some reason for her husband’s fury. “I had them made so that we could watch the Master and his monks on their morning alms-round through the city, and so that we could pay our respects as they pass by.”

“So you admit it!”

“What’s to admit, Sire? We are not allowed to leave the gates to offer them alms-food, so to make some windows in order that we could see when the venerable ones walked past seemed the perfect and rightful middle way. Surely we are not at fault for wishing to honour that in the world which is noble and pure-hearted?” Her tone was so guileless, her countenance so innocent, her logic so seamless that Udena felt an immediate sense of deflation.

“Well… what’s this about your maid traipsing off to see the Sakyan every time he speaks and who is it that sneaks along with her?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Sire. Surely there’s no offense in Khujjuttara coming and going freely – she’s a slave and thus below the laws of protocol. You yourself, Sire, have forbidden my court women and I from leaving the palace without your express wish and we are happy to bow to that, but in no household in Vamsa would a slave be bound by the same restriction – by law she’s a beast of burden.

“If I have offended in allowing her to travel outside the palace it was only since I did not know your wishes – I apologise for being unaware of your desire in this.”

Again the sincerity and artless honesty of his wife disarmed King Udena but he rallied his umbrage at being cuckolded by a monk – at least by the fear of that – and snapped once more:

“So what is this I hear about some mysterious veiled lady who accompanies your maid on these evening jaunts? That’s not you, is it?!” He was getting desperate and hurtful.

“There is no one who goes with Khujjuttara – she’ll swear to it herself if you Page 10 of 26

like – and if there was, I can’t understand how you could think that it might be me. I am your wife, you are my king, my ruler and my husband. You have ordained that I should never go to the monastery unless it was with your explicit blessing – how could I possibly go against your command?”

Udena was defeated. His wife, he knew, was as blameless and pure as the snows that shone on the far Himalayan peaks. That realization being clear, he still needed to preserve his orgul pride and to assert his authority.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this time but I want these windows to be bricked up; I forbid your slave to go to the Ghositarama without my permission and I do not wish to hear that Sakyan monk’s name in the Royal Presence again – is that clear?”

* * *

“You mark my words, Miss Amba, it’s that sly vixen Magandiya that’s put him up to this, or at least that’s led him on.” Khujjuttara had found her mistress by herself in a shady, little-used reception room that looked out over the inner garden. She had seen how solemn her dear friend had been since the King imposed his restrictions and now she had found her secreted quietly in this sad corner. Khujjuttara sat down next to the Queen and took the liberty of holding her hand. Samavati was grateful for this friendliness and leaned against her companion’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t get upset, should I Kujj? And mostly I feel all right – you know: ‘All things come and go,’ and I truly understand that, but sometimes I feel this great weight in my heart and all the world seems colourless. Then this feeling that it’s so unfair to be treated this way wells up and fills me with its noxious fumes. It’s only for a moment but still…”

“Yes, but it is unfair miss – I mean, look – even in the old stories, if a queen has five husbands and then Page 11 of 26

takes a boyfriend on the side, she’s condemned as ‘insatiable,’ on the other hand a king is told that he’s being a bit on the skimpy side if he’s got less than 16,000 concubines. There’s one rule for women and one for men and it’s always been like that.”

“Well, let’s hope it’s not like that forever, eh?” She squeezed Khujjuttara’s hand and smiled. “I never feel that sad or glum for very long these days but I do get waves of it rippling through and my mind goes off into bursts of fantasy.

“Just before you came and found me here I was moaning to myself, ‘Why doesn’t someone come and rescue me?’ Then this image flashed into my mind of a time when I lived with my mother and sister Tamba in that little house in Ujjeni I told you about.

“I had been gathering mangoes from our precious tree and had a shawl filled with all the ripe ones I could find. I was bringing them around the back of the house to the kitchen. Suddenly from on top of the fence, from the roof, the other trees around me, a big troop of bandhar – rhesus monkeys – dropped to the ground and surrounded me. They bared their pointy teeth and snarled, pressing closer and closer, eying the golden fruits and making vicious, nasty noises. I was terrified – there was no escape.

“Then ‘Hyaaah! Hyaaah! Huht! Huht!!’ Tamba came flying around the corner, my skinny five-year-old sister, like the avenging Goddess Durga, swinging one-armed from a tree-branch herself, brandishing a length of sturdy bamboo, her flaming hair streaming out in shocks around her as she pounced, ablaze in the morning sun.

“‘Hyaaah! Hyaaah! Huht! Huht!’ Tamba swung the lathi at the crowd of startled monkey faces and thwacked the ground with it as loudly as she could. ‘Giddahtdahere! Go on! Get out! Out! Out!’ She pounded the paving stones again and again as the group of mango thieves scattered and the attack dissolved.

“The memory made me think: Page 12 of 26

‘Wouldn’t it be grand if some grown up Tamba were now magically to appear and wade in fearlessly, scattering all Magandiya’s wiles and spiteful threats.’ For I’m sure you’re right Khujj – I feel it when there are the rare occasions that I see her – she speaks very graciously and her smile is well-arranged, but I sense the presence of poison in her heart.

“Why do you think she hates me so? And what on earth causes her to be so harsh and rude when she talks about the Master?”

“I’ve no idea why she should be so set against the Buddha – you’ll have to find that out from her, I reckon – but as for you, Miss, she doesn’t hate you – a snake doesn’t hate the mouse it wants to swallow. I’d say what she feels is desire for what you’ve got – you being the Chief Queen an’ all – I reckon it’s just good old-fashioned jealousy, or more likely envy, mixed in with a healthy dose of contempt.

“That’s probably not a lot of comfort to you, Miss,” she grinned cheekily, “but that’s what I’d say is going on.”

“I’ve tried to make myself like her – the Master’s teachings have such a strong emphasis on love for all beings – but I get blocked inside when I make the effort, I don’t know what that is.”
“I think it’s your wisdom, Miss Amba, telling you, ‘Let’s be honest.’ You can’t like a toothache or a raging fever but you can certainly be accepting of it and not conjure up a gripe against it. Isn’t that right?

“I’d say,” Khujjuttara continued, “if I understand the Master’s teaching at all, that he’s not suggesting we try to like the unlikeable but to find that place in the heart where we see that everything belongs – whether it’s a headache, a fever or a scheming yakkhini, a she-demon that wants to take over your throne. It’s all part of Nature. Then it’s up to us to find a way to fit Page 13 of 26

in with that.”

* * *

“I have called you all here, to the palace of Vejayanta, to invite you to embark upon a mission.” Lord Indra’s clear rich voice resounded throughout the magnificence of the reception hall where a stately and colourful army of some two hundred celestial beings of various orders were gathered.

Five-coloured marble pillars sprang in lines formed like giant trees, laced and studded with the nine gems of the Bejaratana: diamond and ruby, cat’s eye and garnet, coral and moonstone, emerald, and yellow and blue sapphire. Intricate patterns fashioned of these stones chased each other in lithe curlicues and convoluted flourishes across the surfaces of the towering columns, then burst over the vast arches of the ceiling. At their bases these designs merged and melded with those woven of sardonyx and lapis lazuli, malachite and opal that latticed the glistening plane of the floor.

Huge open bays framed the thirty-three sides of the hall. Each one’s golden architraves and fretwork were coiled around by luminous emerald spirals, as if they were vines formed of some elemental order of being beyond both stem and stone. Every arch framed a unique vista of the heavenly gardens around the palace. Water sparkled as it fell from delicate fountains by the doors. The distant songs of gandharvas decorated the silence as the King of the Heaven of Thirty-three Gods paused. A heady blend of sweet fragrances filled the air.

“All the signs we can read,” the King continued, “tell us that the asura chieftain Vepacitti was responsible for the destruction of the Great Park, outside this city of Masakkasara, and also for the raids, large and small, that have resulted in the deaths and the abduction of many beings.”

The tall and radiant deva let his words settle for a moment, “This is of grave import indeed, not only because of the tragic loss and destruction that has already occurred but also – as you are all aware – Lord Vepacitti is the father of my beloved queen, Suja and grandfather to Page 14 of 26

my children.” Each of those assembled in that vast, echoing chamber took in this final fact, acknowledging now consciously the seriousness of what faced them, for almost all of them had unwittingly pushed this painful circumstance to the edges of their awareness.

“I do not launch this expedition lightly and my queen – in her noblest of gestures – has sworn to send no message of warning to her father. Similarly, my faithful children have agreed to set aside any filial devotion to their grandfather and have also sworn to remain silent. In turn I have not asked them to participate in the assault that we now have planned.

“Our aim is to launch a surprise attack with this small force now gathered here. By our efforts we will, it is to be hoped, capture Vepacitti and cause harm to as few of his asura subjects as possible. In this way we intend to decapitate the cause of the current strife and, having thus cut off its head, hopefully the cause of a greater war will be removed and the remaining body of asuras will resume their quiescent state. This is our plan.” His voice was cool and steady but the air shimmered like fire.

Lord Indra then rose from his central seat and began to stride through the solemn-faced beings spread through the cavernous hall.

“I will not join the raid-out of respect for my family – so the deva-host of warriors of this realm of the Thirty Three will be led by Generals Varuna and Isana.

“The Lord of Nagas – King Virupakkha himself – will go with his wife, Queen Samuddaja and her sister Irandati, together with four other nagas of great repute.

“The yakkhas have Lord Vessavana as their king and he will participate too.” At this the huge fierce-eyed yakkha-chieftain gently nodded his head in recognition. The group of nagas all raised their hands in añjali and bowed their heads in return.” With him will be General Punnaka – husband of Princess Irandati – with the seasoned warriors Gumbiya Page 15 of 26

and Hemaka, plus Khara and eight others, strong in the arm and fearless fighters all.

“There will be these fifteen brave kinnaris – by no means as brawny as a yakkha or as fast and fierce as a naga – however these are kin of those who have been kidnapped and their keen senses will help to track the lost and the strayed.

“For weaving charms and spells these fair asparas and gandharvas have all stepped forth to risk their lives in this adventure. Rhamba, the leader of the dance and her brother Salassa, the comely youth, will head the twenty-five enchanters.

“Lastly, and most crucially, are these noble valahaka. In order to achieve surprise this raiding troop must travel in such a fashion as to remain unseen until they reach Pubbavideha – indeed until they broach the walls of Lord Vepacitti’s stronghold there. Thus these cloud-devas – spirits of cool-clouds, storm-clouds, and warm-and-rain-clouds – will conjure a great tempest from the west that will bear down upon and deluge Pubbavideha for three days.

“On that third day, wrapped in richer, denser clouds within the storm, will come our riders.” At this Lord Indra stretched forth his arm and swept it across the array of celestial beings assembled there, their faces firm in their resolve and keenly attentive to the words of the deva-king.

“Some of you are smaller and weaker than others,” he looked directly at the rosy cluster of Ant, Bee and Maggot and the dozen other kinnari delicately draped in their various hues, “but I look to those who are battle-hardened and sturdy to provide protection when it is needed. The valahaka will start the storm tonight – on the third day, we ride.”

“Be strong my friends, be brave and may righteousness prevail.”

* * *

Prince Suvira stood at the grand entrance to the hall, where it led out onto the marshalling yard. The celestial commandos were completing their arming and discussion of details when his father stepped up beside him. They watched General Punnaka, rudely fearsome in Page 16 of 26

his brazen armour, straddling his Sindh horse with its golden ears and hooves of ruby. It was caparisoned with chain-mail of diamond-studded golden rings so fine it seemed as though some kind of sparkling quicksilver had been poured across the great beast’s back in a cascade that never reached the ground.

The yakkha general lowered one hand and offered it to the sinuous glistening figure standing by his knee. Princess Irandati, shining her own silver-scaled naga battle cloak and breeches, took the mailed hand and, with no apparent effort, was lifted to perch upon the pommel before her husband.

“They are a handsome pair, aren’t they, son?”

“Glorious indeed, father, as are so many of this small, brave company that you have sent forth.”

Lord Indra took in the scene of the departing troops and breathed in deeply – sighing to himself how sad it was that they were now pressed to fight and that, surely, not all would return alive. With that breath he noticed a strange and delightful perfume that he had never smelled before. It seemed floral but somehow it reminded him too of the freshness of morning sunlight; also, mysteriously, it evoked the holy atmosphere that surrounded the Buddha when he gave teachings to an assembly deep in the forest night, as well as a scent unique to Queen Suja’s hair…

“What is that fragrance you are wearing? I’ve never known the like of it before.”

“Oh father! This is wonderful stuff! I get it from my friend Pitipuppha – Rapturous Flower – you know he has acquired such a wealth of knowledge on these things – he’s quite amazing – he studied with the great Bodhisattva Utpalabhuti – who’s also a parfumier – and knows all about fragrances, incenses, perfumes, ointments and aromatic powders; he’s mastered all human and celestial fragrances – ones that cure illness, remove depression, incite passions, produce joy, ones to extinguish passions, remove arrogance and heedlessness – you name it – he knows the source, production, application, efficacy and nature of every scent there Page 17 of 26

is.

“He also studied with the Bodhisattva ‘Adorned with Fragrance’ himself – oh it’s amazingly spiritual and uplifting to hear him – you’ll love this – his teacher said he saw the bhikkhus light some incense and then contemplated the fragrance – he realized the aroma did not come from the wood, nor from emptiness, nor from the smoke, nor from the fire. There was no place it came from and no place it went to. Because of this his discriminating mind was totally seen through and he became enlightened. Isn’t that wonderful!” Suvira finally paused for breath.

“Well, it obviously makes you feel very happy.” Lord Indra looked at his son askant, slightly surprised by the enthusiastic flood of words that had issued forth.

“Oh yes, it is truly amazing father; not only does it evoke the favourite fragrances of each being that inhales it but it also makes the mind completely awake and bright. If you put just a little on, it’s like breathing lungfuls of the essence of life itself, over and over again. It’s spectacular!”

“And what is it called – this mysterious, magical brew?”

“Pitipuppha calls it ‘Amatagandha’ – ‘Fragrance of the Deathless’ – very fitting, if you ask me. Would you like to try some father?” Prince Suvira produced a small crystal vial from within his robes and proffered it to Lord Indra. The deva-king cautiously removed the stopper and inhaled the aroma with a single-minded attention. It was certainly enchanting – like the living heart of pure celestial flowers – but as he drew the odour deep within him he also detected a faint and yet strange forbidding quality. There was a subtle, sour festering that murmured below the rapturous light-filled bouquet.

“Thank you, son, but no thanks. I know something of the science of perfumes and – despite its glorious top and middle tones – its main theme of blossoms and light – there is something odd about its base note that does not appeal.” He handed back the tiny flask.

Suvira took Page 18 of 26

a deep whiff himself and tried to discern the sour note the King of Gods had spoken of – it seemed as fully refreshing and entrancing as ever to him, so he pocketed the crystal vial and took his leave.

* * *

Magandiya was incensed. Far from the King having deposed Samavati from her position as queen and banished the Buddha from his realm, like some foppish dolt he had buckled before that mooncalf’s supposed innocence and all was virtually as it had been before.

Even the great risk and expense she had gone to, in bribing one of the persuadable ladies of her chambers to dress up in a veil and to shadow Khujjutara to and from the palace, had reaped nothing. The King, like some credulous child, had simply taken that doe-headed and oh-so-innocent woman’s word for it and had looked no further – it was too much.

She let matters settle for a few moons and concentrated on providing the King with as much companionship as she could of the type he most favoured. She knew he was suspicious of her motives so she did her best to feign as open and guileless an attitude as possible – even going so far as to apologise for having caused him to suspect Samavati of wrong-doing. She kept his cup filled and his cares at bay. She also contrived, with great skill, to be ‘caught’ staring at him with unabashed adoration when ‘she thought’ he wouldn’t notice. This flattered the Royal Ego no end and re-established his trust in her.

Once she knew he had fully swallowed the bait she made her move.

* * *

“Watch out! Watch Out! It’s a snake!” It was the middle of the night and Magandiya was screaming. “No, no! You can’t kill him! Watch out…” She thrashed from side to side her hair loose and flying wildly. Her eyes burst open and she jerked her head this way and that looking for some movement, some shape in the dimness of the burning night-lamps, her gestures Page 19 of 26

mazed and manic.

“What is it? What did you see, girl? It’s just a dream.” King Udena tried to calm her, sweating and distressed beside him.

“You mustn’t go to the Queen’s chambers tomorrow. She will certainly kill you! I saw it; I saw it all so clearly.”

“What nonsense are you talking? That woman couldn’t kill mosquito,” he retorted.

“You’ll think me mad or spiteful, I know Sire, but it was so vivid – I saw – she unleashed a snake on you and you are due to visit her tomorrow.” Magandiya seemed genuinely fraught and tearful, filled with concern for her husband. He stroked her brow.

“Dreams are just fanciful projections – hollow echoes of the day gone by or the results of a badly digested supper. They never mean a thing.” He tried to sound reassuring and confident but, as he spoke the words, he also recalled the intensely real dream that he had had of Samavati herself many years before, when she had been but a little girl.

“Here, have a sip of this – calm yourself and be still. Besides what would Samavati hope to gain should she succeed in doing me in?”

“That was just it Sire – after the snake had taken your life, I saw her install that Sakyan as her paramour and she reigned with him as King and Queen of Vamsa.”

At this repellant picture, Udena took a large draught of flower-mead himself and tried to still his own now anxious thoughts.

* * *

He always took his vina with him – the famous elephant-charming ‘hatthi-kanta’ instrument – whenever he went to spend a convivial day with one of his consorts or the Queen. A serving maid had carried it in for him and had laid it by the divan while he and Samavati spent their long luncheon hours chatting and nibbling their way through many tasty dishes. By mid-afternoon the King was in a genial but dozy mood and the night-horrors of Magandiya’s dream were quite forgotten.

Samavati Page 20 of 26

was quite awake for she had not eaten as much as the other members of the lunch party and had refrained from the liquor altogether. She noticed the unfamiliar maid, who had carried in the King’s vina, lean over and gently remove a posy of flowers that had been decorously placed in the opening of the vina’s sound-box. The girl slid away and vanished behind some curtains.

Swiftly from that same hole in the vina there now emerged an angry and hungry cobra that Magandiya had secured there some three days before. King Udena was roused from his post-prandial drowse by the screams thrown up by voices all around him. He raised himself up onto an elbow – his garlands ruffled and his necklaces askew – and found the serpent inches away from his face, hood spread wide.

For a man of fifty or so he moved with impressive speed and grace. In a single fluid roll he flipped over to one side and swirled the bed-sheet around with his free hand to wrap the snake safely in a cocoon of muslin.

Without pausing in his movements Udena pulled his horn-bow from amongst the weapons he had laid at the foot of the couch upon his arrival. He bent its arc of legendary strength, strung it and notched a poisoned arrow on the string.

“Is this how you return my gifting you with the status of High Queen? What reason do you wish me harm, woman?”

Samavati now stood before the King, hands raised, palms together in añjali. “I promise you Sire, my virtue is pure and true – I have never wished you any harm.”

“And this is how such virtue is rewarded.” He pulled the string of the great bow and aimed the arrow at Samavati.

At that moment Khujjuttara stumbled forward, tripping over her own gimpy leg in her urgency to protect her mistress. She tried to plant herself in front of the Queen but Samavati would not allow it. “No Khujjuttara, His Majesty wishes to shoot me – you Page 21 of 26

should never obstruct or disobey the King.”

“Indeed,” he barked, “virtuous and compliant, obedient to the last – well, girl, you can stand behind her and so too can all the rest of your wretched conspirators.” At that all of the women of the harem, obedient in their terror, scurried anxiously to line up behind Samavati.

“This bow has put a single arrow through a line of twenty men before – so, without armour, it should do fine for the lot of you.” As they stood there in their trembling file, Samavati spoke to the women of her household. “My sisters, take refuge in Wisdom, Truth and Virtue – we have no other refuge. Cherish the same feelings towards our King, and to whomsoever it was that unleashed this snake, as you do towards yourselves. Be not angry with anyone.”

He raised the butt of the arrow to his eye and fired at Samavati’s heart. To his amazement the shaft flew to her left and missed her completely, penetrating a pillar near the end of the hall. He pulled another arrow from the quiver and aimed again. This time making doubly sure that his hand was rock-steady and the tip off the arrow was on-line. His anger was so intense that all he felt was the white heat of concentration.

He missed again. The arrow flew to the right and pierced a window-frame.

During this whole encounter, even though fear-filled sobs and cries came from a few of the court women lined up behind Samavati, her expression had not changed one iota. As the King notched a third arrow to his bow a small frown crossed her brow and she seemed to give a slight shake to her head – as if she was indicating “No, I don’t agree,” or “Please don’t do that.” In truth this was exactly what she had been doing for – unbeknownst to all those others assembled there – while King Udena had aimed his arrows, a large and bristly yakkha had loomed above him and had tapped his bow as Page 22 of 26

he shot, now left, now right.

Gumbiya, who had come to do his duty and protect his mistress, was perplexed:– If I don’t help ‘er, what’s going to stop the next arrow? But she seemed insistent and so the yakkha, with deep misgivings, stepped back and let the third arrow fly true.

This time it was right on target but, as it neared Samavati’s heart, it rebounded as if it had hit a steel wall and, twirling gracefully end over end, it clattered to the ground at Udena’s feet. The sound of its fall punctuated an electric silence.
The King thought to himself: “That arrow that I shot was capable of piercing even a rock, and there was nothing in the air to make it turn back. But it rebounded and returned by the same path that it went. By all the gods, this senseless lifeless arrow knows her goodness but I, who am a human being, know it not.”

King Udena sank to his knees, put down his bow, lowered his head and raised his hands in añjali. “Please dear wife, forgive this proud and arrogant fool. I am humbled before your purity and your kindly heart. This miracle not only shows what a confused and bewildered idiot I am, but it also reveals the true power of your virtue, your noble heart. Out of compassion, please use these beautiful gifts of yours to protect me from other follies in the future.”

Samavati, not wishing to claim credit for all that had transpired, humbly responded: “Of course I forgive you, Your Majesty, my dear husband, and please know that it was not me alone that performed this wonder. Sometimes when the truth of things needs to be defended, the great powers of the universe come to our aid as well.”



Notes and References:


Page 205 — They say you have a charm … As in ‘The Story Cycle of King Udena’ in ‘Buddhist Legends,’ Vol. I, p. 271.

Page 205 — to go dressed in plain white Page 23 of 26

clothing… It is customary for devout followers of the Buddhist religion, particularly in the Southern Buddhist countries, to wear plain white, or black and white clothing when visiting the temple, and to forgo the use of jewellery and perfumes. This practice is especially followed on the lunar observance days (the full, new and half-moons), or for a special event or festival. In the Pali scriptures there is often reference to ‘the white-clad laity’ eg at A 5.195.

Page 206 — A good king should display:… These are the Ten Rāja-dhammas, or Royal Virtues. They are mentioned in several places in the Jātakas, e.g., Jāts. §§151 & 282.

Page 206 — one worthy of ruling the world… These qualities of a Universal Emperor are listed at D 25.6.

Page 208 — that the Queen had those windows put in… As in ‘Buddhist Legends,’ Vol. I, p. 282. In the original story it was Khujjuttarā who had the idea to put viewing-holes in the wall.

Page 208 — The concealment of another’s fault… In many of the more serious monastic rules it is also regarded as a wrongdoing, sometimes even of an equal weight, for a monk or nun to hide the transgression of another.

Page 211 — if a queen has five husbands… As quoted above, Ch. 12 note §2.

Page 211— less than 16,000 concubines… This refers to Jāt. §489: “Such a King should have 16,000 women at the least.” Also, comparable comments are made at Jāts. §§461, 472, 538 & 460, where the Bodhisatta is one of 1,000 sons of King Sabbadatta.

Page 211 — like the avenging Goddess Durga… She is an aspect of Mother Kālī and is usually depicted with many weapon-carrying arms. Her name means “one who can redeem in situations of utmost distress.”

Page 212 — a strong emphasis on love for all beings… As in the Karanīyamettā Sutta: “Even as a mother protects with her life, her child, her only child, so with a boundless heart should one cherish all living beings.” SN 143-152.

Page Page 24 of 26

212 — not trying to suggest we like the unlikeable… As described in ‘Mindfulness: The Path to the Deathless,’ by Ajahn Sumedho; in the Chapter, ‘Kindness,’
pp. 35-38.

Page 212 — celestial palace of Vejayanta… As mentioned, for example, at M 37.8: “It once happened that war broke out between the devas and the asuras. In that war the devas won and the asuras were defeated. When I had won that war and returned from it as a conqueror, I had the Vejayanta Palace built.”

Page 212 — the nine gems of the Bejaratana… The legend of Bejaratana – the Nine Auspicious Gems – associates these stones with different parts of the body:
heart – diamond & ruby
right eye – cat’s eye
left eye – garnet
tongue – coral
lymph – moonstone
blood (as spewed by the nāga Pasukin) – yellow sapphire, blue sapphire & emerald.

Page 212-3 — Lord Vepacitti is the father of my beloved Queen, Suja… This curious fact is mentioned at Jāts § 386, 429 and 430; also at S 11.12: “Sakka’s wife is the asura maiden named Sujā.” The story of how this odd couple came to be married is found in ‘Buddhist Legends,’ Vol. I, pp. 313-324.

Page 213 — Varuna and Isana… The former is named as a deva-king in Jāts. §§513 & 543; an eminent nāga of the same name appears in Jāt. §545. The latter is another name for Lord Shiva; he is mentioned along with Varuna as a deva-king at D 13.25 & S 11.3.

Page 213 — Rhamba, the leader of the dance… She was indeed one of the most famous asparas, along with Urvasī, Menakā and Tilottamā. Generally the female asparas have the male gandharvas as their husbands. The women dance and the men make the music in the classic tales.

Page 213 — these cloud-devas… The Valāhaka have a whole section of the Samyutta Nikāya dedicated to them: S 32. All these various forms of cloud-deva are mentioned there.

Page 214 — his Sindh horse with its Page 25 of 26

golden ears… As described at Jāt. §545, ‘The Jātaka,’ Vol. VI, p. 131.

Page 214 — Princess Irandati…took the mailed hand… As at Jāt. §545, ‘The Jātaka,’ Vol. VI, p. 131.

Page 214 — the great Bodhisattva Utpalabhuti… As mentioned in the Avatamsaka Sūtra, in the chapter entitled: ‘Entry into the Realm of Reality.’ This spiritually advanced parfumier, whose name means ‘born of the blue lotus,’ is the 21st bodhisattva encountered by the youth Sudhana on his quest for enlightenment. See ‘Entry into the Realm of Reality – The Text,’ trans. Thomas Cleary, pp. 134-5, Shambhala Publications.

Page 215 — the Bodhisattva ‘Adorned with Fragrance’… This great spiritual being – who also used the realm of scent as a spiritual method – is mentioned in the Shurangama Sutra, 5.30. This method of realization is one of 25 presented to the Buddha as possible approaches to enlightenment. See ‘The Shurangama Sutra’ p. 125, DRBA.

Page 215 — its glorious top and middle tones…base note… These terms are used as part of a description in ‘Jitterbug Perfume,’ by Tom Robbins; e.g. on p. 218.

Page 216 — Watch out! Watch Out! It’s a snake!... This latter part of the chapter is mostly derived from ‘The Story Cycle of King Udena’ in ‘Buddhist Legends,’ Vol. I, pp. 285-6.

Page 217 — gently remove a posy of flowers… In the original tale it is Māgandiyā herself – who had contrived to be present – who removes the flowers.

Page 217 — He pulled the string of the great bow and aimed the arrow at Samavati… A similar incident is recounted in the Ambattha Sutta, D 3.1.23 where the Buddha speaks of Ambattha’s ancestor Kanha (Skt = Krishna), who was the black-skinned son of the slave-girl Disā. He says:

“Don’t disparage Ambattha too much for being the son of a slave-girl! That Kanha was a mighty sage. He went to the south country [the Deccan], learnt the mantras of the brahmins there, and then went to King Okkāka and asked for his daughter Maddarūpī. And King Okkāka, Page 26 of 26

furiously angry, exclaimed: ‘So this fellow, the son of a slave-girl, wants my daughter!’ and put an arrow to his bow. But he was unable to either shoot the arrow or to withdraw it. Then the ministers and counsellors came to the sage Kanha and said: ‘Spare the king, Reverend Sir, spare the king!’”

The king was then told by Kanha that the only way out of this dilemma was to fire the arrow at the crown prince. Kanha assured him if he did so the prince would be unharmed. The king obeyed under this duress and the prince was indeed happily unscathed. He then offered his daughter Maddarūpī to Kanha in marriage.

In the original tale King Udena only fires one arrow and no yakkha is mentioned as providing protection.