Mangala: Chapter Four

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 Four – The Kinnaris and the Yakkha

here did she say they were?”

“Somewhere on this pathway heading down the slope.”

“I can’t see anything.”

“They must be here somewhere; she wasn’t making it up, she was really quite worried.”

“Here,” called a small red figure from up ahead, “I’ve found them.”

“Who are they?” asked her friend, coming to her side and peering at the clumped bundle of Amba and Sita.

“How should I know? But there’s only two of them, the spirit guardian of the banyan said there were three – an adult and two youngsters – and rukkha-devas are usually right about such things. They’re observant, steady types so the other one must be nearby somewhere.”

“I don’t know,” said the tallest of the three kinnaris, now all clustered around the prone mother and daughter, “humans are just one problem after another.” She stood up straight and rolled her shoulders assertively, her raiment of maroon and purple flower-gauze rippling in the moonlight. They may well be in trouble of some kind but why should be any business of ours? Apart from the Master, and the sisters and brothers who follow him, these people,“ she propelled the word from her mouth as if it were an unexpectedly bitter seed, “are difficult in the beginning, worse in the middle, and a nightmare at the end.”

“Don’t be such a suspicious grouch, Bee.” Her rose-clad companion now leaned further over, drawing closer to Sita’s impassive yet harrowed face. “She’s dead. Well gone. She must have been the little girls’ mother – I wonder if the child knows… she’s all snuggled in as if they were both just fast asleep.”

“Where d’you think the other young one’s gone? It must be her brother or sister,” said the small one in red.

“Who knows? Can you hear if there’s any of them nearby? There’s plenty of moonlight but nothing obvious I can see…”

“Well, one thing’s for sure, Maggot, the girl here’s alive and well, and if she’s going to have any chance of surviving without her mother, or whoever this lady is, we’ll have to help her find food and get to safety when she wakes up.” As the two of them carried on this discussion, their tall friend crossed her arms over her chest and put on as disgruntled an expression as she could manage.

“If you’re not inclined to help too much, Bee, you can at least stand guard and look after her if she rouses. Ant and I will take a look around here and see what we can sniff out by way of edibles. It will be nice to have something for her in the morning and, what with the Rains being just over, there must be some fruits and shoots and roots in the area. Maybe the banyan-deva will know – she’s ancient and has lived here surrounded by all these other trees and plants for so long.”

The two smaller kinnaris, clad in their flowing garments of creamy-rose and bright red respectively, were about to take off on their search when a fierce squall burst upon the trees around them, stirring the leaves into a frantic shimmering, fracturing the shafts of blue-while light and breaking a few dead branches overhead. The luminescent apparel of the three friends flapped and scintillated wildly in the wind; instinctively they threw their arms up to protect themselves from the tumbling twigs and tree-limbs while Bee, by far the tallest and strongest of them, jumped forward to shelter Amba as well as herself.

* * *

“Well, well, well – lovely – looks like dinner!” A huge burly red-eyed form came crashing through the upper boughs and landed untidily beside the stream. Its hands and feet ended in long twisting talons; beneath the unblinking eyes was a hairy wedge of nose and mouth as broad as a horse’s, filled with snaggled and curving teeth. Hooked to its belt was a sizeable war-club, and it smelled terrible.

“That big one’s a bit off – not too bad, mind, nothing wrong with grub that’s a bit ripe – but that little one’s fresh as a daisy. Nothing like a nice bit of liver, piping hot and straight from the pod, that’s what I always say.” He’d been drawn to the spot primarily by the smell of his favourite quarry, fresh human flesh, and it was only now that he looked up and took in the presence of the three kinnaris gathered behind Amba and Sita, further up the slope.

The yakkha, not the quickest of thinkers but one who had been swift and deft in a fight in his day, pondered the situation for a moment: “Look’s like we’ve got company. Don’t reckon they’d be after a slice – not all decked out in flowers like that—more like pollen-eaters if you ask me… That lot can be a right nuisance, mind, fussing and flitting about all over the shop, getting all high-minded and that…Well, no problem, I’ll just flash my gnashers and roar a bit and they’ll be off, double quick.”

He strode forward, unclipping the ugly truncheon at his side at his side and raised it threateningly above his head; he leaned toward them pulling his lips back to bare his fangs, issuing a violent and noxious-smelling roar from the depths of his throat, and bugging his crimson rolling eyes with a crazed menace. To his surprise – and somewhat to their own – the three kinnaris drew together and formed a (slightly trembling) barrier between him and his prospective feast. Equally unexpected was that the one known as Bee, who had been so hesitant to get involved, had now placed herself at the centre of the trio and seemed to be taking the stance of chief protector.

“Stand not between a yakkha chieftain and his prey!” He boomed, trying to sound as imperious as possible. “Go on, clear of out of it – pesky little imps,“ he continued, quite forgetting to use his best classical accent and his stock of ‘great threatening phrases’ that he had gleaned from the bards’ recitals of the ancient epics.

“You’ll have to take us on first, you loathsome, stinking creep – don’t you dare even try to lay a finger on them!” Bee had narrowed her gaze and set her jaw – it was clear that she would now defend Amba and her mother to the death.

“Hah!” he guffawed. “Ha! That’s got to be a first – a warrior-yakkha gets told by three pink fairies that he can’t have his dinner, and he just says, ‘Oh, do excuse me your ladyships, how rude of me to even think about having a bite to eat in your august presences. You must forgive me for being an uncouth ignorant old git…’ Now, I might think about having you three as horse doovers (or whatever you call them) – or maybe one for starters and couple for pudding…” Soon getting lost in his own mirth, he let the flow of his monologue slip and broke into uncontrolled laughter, blasting the kinnaris with a gout of his rancid breath into the bargain.

* * *

Where she had been half-stirred by the noise of the wind in the trees and the low musical mumble of the kinnaris’ conversation, the manic cackling of the yakkha now brought Amba fully awake. She pulled the wrap from around her head and blinked a few times to get used to the midnight light. As her sight cleared she was amazed and delighted to see the magenta, red and salmon-pink luminescent figures before her. Meanwhile the raucous laughter that had woken her had muted itself to a series of jerky chuckles. Amba peered between the radiant forms of the flower-clad beings to see the source of the disturbing voice and rapidly made out the hulking presence of the brutish celestial demon behind them.

* * *

Fear and shock shuddered through her as she asked, “What’s happening? Who are you all?”

“Very glad you asked, miss,” the huge bristling face loomed high above the heads of her defenders, “the name is Gumbiya, yakkha warrior-chief (rtd.), and what’s happening is I’m starving hungry – haven’t had a bite to eat for at least half a day – and you, my darling, are my dinner.”

“Just you shut up!” roared Bee, in her own gruff, commanding voice, her wrath now fully roused, “how can you be so horrid, saying such vile things and frightening a little girl!”

“Frighten her!? I’m going to eat her!” He chuckled, flaring his crimson eyes, “Now just get out of my way before I turn the three of you into pink ‘n purple mush.” He drew back his club, studded with iron spikes and naga-teeth, and poised himself to sweep the three courageous kinnaris aside. “I’ll count to three…”

The smallest of them, Ant, clad in flower-gauze of kanavera petals, swiftly turned to Amba and said “We’re all disciples of the Buddha – if this beast harms us he’s in trouble; if he tries to grab you, just recite “Namo Buddhaya!” and you’ll be protected too.”

“One!”

“What good’s that going to do?” her friend in pink whispered, “she doesn’t even know what the words mean. For the protection charm to work you have to be a real disciple – the Master’s said so many times how it’s not a matter of just reciting the sound of the words, you have to mean it.”

“Two!”

“If the charm is to work he has to attack us. As long as we stand firm, he’s in trouble.”

“Three!

“Now, if you’ve finished your little discussion, ladies, would you please flutter off and let me have my grub – my belly’s growling like a bear with ruptured piles.”

“We’re all disciples of the Buddha,” barked Bee, “and if you lay a single of your nasty claws on us you’ll regret it, long and painfully.”

Surprised by his own forbearance and somewhat impressed by the pluck that the three were showing, he chuckled, “So how’s that? I can’t hardly wait to hear how the likes of you three are going to do me in – what’ve you got in mind: hitting me with your pom-poms or maybe drowning me in a heap of flower petals? Vicious!”

“Don’t you remember what happened to Suciloma, the yakkha who attacked the great monk, Sariputta?”

“Remind me, my dears; old age and hunger have a very trying effect on the memory.”

“You tell it Maggot – you heard it directly from the Elder Maha-Moggallana who saw the whole thing.”

“It was a bright, full moon night,” she began, “the two great friends, the Elder Sariputta and the Elder Maha-Moggallana, the two chief disciples of the Buddha, were sitting in meditation out in the forest together. Their heads were freshly shaven, as is their custom at the full and new moon days, and the moonlight gleamed radiantly on the pates of these two great beings.

“At that time there were two yakkhas passing by, flying southward on some business or other. The one, foolish Suciloma, suddenly felt the desire to strike one of the Elders on the head, as it shone so invitingly, down there in the glade below them. He announced this intention to his companion, Khara, who wisely advised, ‘It would be a great folly to do such a thing, my friend, these disciples of the Blessed One are often mighty and powerful. If you were to attack them it is certain that you would suffer for it greatly.’”

Her gentle voice recited the tale in rhythmic folds of sound; Amba and the other kinnaris, and even the fearsome yakkha were all drawn into the spell of it as the stately cadences rose and fell.

“No matter how he tried to dissuade his rash companion, none of it affected him, Suciloma would attack. He swooped to the forest floor and delivered a fell blow to the head of Venerable Sariputta – such as would have easily levelled a bull elephant, by Maha-Moggallana’s guess.

“To the stark amazement of the yakkha Khara high above, to Maha-Moggallana and to Suciloma too, the savage club glanced harmlessly from the noble Elder’s head – Venerable Sariputta sat unflinching in his pose, he not so much as twitched at the mountain-smashing strike. And, before the grisly goblin could raise his cudgel once again, the Earth, grossly offended by his heinous act, opened wide beneath him, sending forth great tongues of flame and swallowed him into her yawning maw.

“A little later, once he had emerged from depths of calm, the Elder Sariputta looked about. When his eyes met those of Maha-Moggallana, his friend asked him: ‘How do you feel, friend, are you well? Do you have aches or pains?’ ‘Come to mention it, I have a slight headache,’ Sariputta replied, ‘otherwise I feel quite fine and well.’

“‘It is incredible, amazing,’ said Maha-Moggallana ‘your powers of concentration are so deep and finely-tuned. A great yakkha just struck you with a blow that would have felled a bull elephant in battle yet you are scarcely touched by it!’

“‘Well, what is equally wonderful to me, is that you have the powers to so easily discern beings in other realms whereas I, for all my gifts, have not the eyes to see so much as a humble little mud-sprite.’

“And so, delighting in each other’s great and holy powers, these two noble beings went on their way. The yakkhas Khara and Suciloma, meanwhile, each fared on according to their different kinds of karma.”

* * *

The sound of the kinnari, clad in her rose-pink flowerets, sank away and, in its absence, the ringing of the forest night seemed to rise. A tense airlessness then formed around the group of figures by the rivulet and Gumbiya’s broad brow knitted with concern. The seven rough tufts of matted, coarse hair along his crown and spine then seemed to bristle and rise once more; he squared his shoulders and stood firmly with his club before him.

“Yeah, well, now you mention it I did hear about that – nasty way to go and all – I knew him too, we fought in the same battalion in one of the campaigns of King Indra against the asuras. But that Sariputta,” Gumbiya reasoned, putting into play the full force of his logical powers, “he’s one of the big chief’s main men isn’t he? You three are just a bunch of little pipsqueaks.”

“Oh yeah?” Bee planted her fists firmly on her hips, feeling the advantage now tilting their way, “Well what about the warding charm that your own king, His Demonic Majesty, Vessavana, composed to protect the Buddha’s disciples, if attacked by one of his unruly subjects – eh?! Does that ring any bells in your thick head?

“If we have recited that set of protective verses and you decide to have a go at us, you my dear, will be heading down to the cooking pots for a long time. Feel like you want to try your luck?”

The massive Yakkha, although more than somewhat concerned with what he was getting himself into, nevertheless was driven forward by a potent mix of wounded pride and complaining rumbles emerging from his gut. He took a step to widen his stance so he could smite the three of them in one hammer-fall but as he raised his weapon behind his shoulder the kinnaris in turn raised their hands with palms together and began to chant:

“Namo me sabba Buddhanam…”

“All right, all right – have it your own way – I won’t touch you or the little girl, but hows about me just taking the dead one? She’s no use to you...”

“Don’t be so gross, you disgusting heap of demon dung; just clear off out of here and leave us alone. Even if she is dead, you’re certainly not getting your grubby claws on her – she deserves a much better end than to be chewed up in your stinking gob, you smell like you ate rotting dog for breakfast.”

“Now, now, let’s not get personal.”

“What do you mean, ‘even if she is dead’?” Amba’s strained voice broke in, “my mum’s not dead. She’s just paralysed or something. She got bit by a snake and she’s very ill but it’ll take more than a little thing like that to stop her – you don’t know what she’s like, she’s very tough.”

“Listen dearie, that there is a dead body – I’ve seen enough in my time so I can tell you. Besides, she’s stone cold isn’t she? Go on, feel her. No heart-beat either – right?” Amba cautiously touched the skin of her mother’s face and tried to find her heartbeat in her chest; it was not there and the skin was reptile cold.

“See, what did I tell you? The Killer has done his work – the King of Death hath taken her – dun-die-finish-mata-mata. So, I don’t mean to be, y’know, unsympathetic and all, in this time of your loss but, well, you being just a little slip of a thing, and now being in need of some way to… what do you call it?... ‘dispose of your mum’s mortal remains,’ so how about you just let old Gumbiya here take her off your hands and help you out like?”

“You loathsome, heartless, obnoxious brute! Don’t you dare suggest such a horrible thing to the poor girl; how would you feel about eating your own mother if she died, think about that – it’s disgusting…”

“What d’you mean ‘disgusting’!? My mum was very tasty, if you don’t mind. Anyway it looks like I’m not going to make much headway here ¬– you girls’ve put the mockers on me getting any dinner in these parts – so I think I’ll just scarper and leave you lot to it.”

Decidedly crestfallen (his seven tufts had indeed just lost their perked up zing and were now once more flattened to his head) the disappointed yakkha turned away, hooking his war-cudgel back onto his belt as he went.

He was scanning the tree tops from the bank, looking for a good open space to fly away through, when a thought formulated itself disquietingly in his mind. “One more thing – if I might ask a little favour – I‘d, err, appreciate it if word of this, err, encounter didn’t, errr, get passed on; if you know what I mean.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ant, her neck bent right back to look the yakkha in the face.

“Well, you know, the lads at the barn, my mates, they’d give me no end of grief if they found out that I’d been faced down by a bunch of pink fairies.”

“We are not ‘fairies’!” retorted Bee, with a snort. “Or ‘ladies’ or ‘girls’ for that matter – if you don’t mind! We are kinnaris, proud earth-spirits, bhumma-deva, and protectors of flowers. Let’s get that straight for a start.”

‘What’s in it for us?” Ant cocked an eyebrow and swung the billowing sleeve of deep red kanavera blossoms on her left arm to and fro. “Why should we be bothered to save your pride after you’ve behaved so nastily towards us?” Being small even for a young kinnari, Ant was greatly enjoying this moment of power over one so huge.

The burly yakkha’s brow crumpled as he brooded over what he might possibly offer them and that they might be at all interested in; he could knock up some custom-made kinnari-sized war clubs but he suspected that there wouldn’t be much interest in that. Then it dawned on him and his face lit up with inspiration and hope.

“Well, I was thinking, if you or your friends ever need a little muscle for anything, y’know to help with a little persuasion, that kind of thing, or an ugly mug to scare off some villains – just let me know, all right? I’ll do my best to help you out.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Swear it on Lord Vessavana’s protection, the Atanatiya Paritta?”

Gumbiya gulped, “All right.”

“Very good,” said Bee, “then we’re all agreed? OK, so we promise, in turn, that we won’t let anyone know about this… encounter.”

* * *

The kinnaris watched him take off and barrel away amidst the trees, shaking his shaggy head as he flew into the night sky. Behind them Amba had begun to cry and begged the three to reassure her that her mother was actually still alive and that the monster had only been trying to frighten her. “She isn’t really dead, is she?”

“We’re very sorry, little one, but in this instance he was telling the truth, your mother has passed on into another realm. It looks like she left this life a few hours ago. It must have a very deadly snake.”

For quite some time Amba was inconsolable but the three friends were skilled in giving comfort and managed to calm and sooth her after a while. They encouraged her to realize that Sita had probably been reborn in a fine heavenly realm and they promised they would endeavour to find out where, when they next had the chance to see the Buddha or one of the others, like the Elder nun Uppalavanna or Maha-Moggallana, who were able to know such things through their psychic powers.

By the early hours of the morning she had become fast friends with them. They had found out that her name was Amba and she in turn asked theirs.

“Our proper names are frightfully long and florid: mine is ‘Jambu-sirivanna’ – ‘beautiful radiance of the rose apple’” said Maggot.

“Mine is ‘Sugandha-kanavera’ – fragrant kanavera blossom.”

“And mine,” grumbled Bee, “is ‘Maha-paduma-sundari.’”
“Which means – ‘glorious great red lotus,’” giggled Ant, knowing how much her friend disliked the grandness it conveyed. “But actually, we call each other by our nick-names all the time: so I’m Ant, she’s Bee, and that’s Maggot.”

“How did you get the name ‘Maggot’?”

“Oh you know, the same way anyone gets such things; when I was tiny, someone gave me a jambu fruit, a rose apple, and it had a maggot in it, so when I found it I was apparently very upset and yelled out ‘Maggot! It’s a maggot!’ and that’s been what everyone has called me ever since.”

“Well I got my name from the fact that people thought that my skin was the colour of mangoes so they named me after that.” Amba had now warmed to the three of them as if they were old friends, she felt greatly at ease with them. “I think you could have much better nick-names than the ones you have – you should be called after your own colours like me – I think I’ll name you Pinkie, Little Red and Garnet.”

“’Pinkie’ – don’t you think that’s a little too chichi?” said Maggot; appalled at the idea of having to live with such a name.

“Well ‘Little Red’s’ not a lot better,” chuckled Ant. “At least you got something half-way decent Bee, I mean Garnet.”

Nevertheless, they were happy to indulge Amba’s inventiveness – she was not yet seven after all – and having made it safely through the trauma of the night, they were all in a playful, forgiving mood.

It was very late by then and yet, even though Amba was sure she would not get to sleep, (what with meeting with kinnaris, the attack of the yakkha and the realization of her mother’s death) she started to drift off anyway. As she floated between waking and sleeping she wondered if she should still cuddle up to her mother, now that she had died – while part of her mind tried to decide what would be right, she found she had wriggled up close to her regardless.


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Notes & References:

Chapter 4

1. Page 37 — rukkha-devas are usually right… Rukkha-devas are tree spirits, one of the many kinds of bhumma-deva, or ‘earth-spirits’ in Buddhist cosmology; ‘dryads’ in Greek mythology are very comparable. Of the 27 heavenly realms, that of the bhumma-deva is the most down-to-earth.
According to tradition there are a total of 32 different realms of existence, ranging from the hells, at the lower end of the spectrum, to the formless abodes of the
highest brahma gods at the top end. They are grouped as follows, counting from the
top down:
A. THE FOUR FORMLESS BRAHMA REALMS (Arupa-loka).
1) The Heaven of Devas of the Sphere of Neither-Perception-Nor-Non-Perception.
2) The Heaven of Devas of the Sphere of No-Thingness.
3) The Heaven of Devas of the Sphere of Infinite Consciousness.
4) The Heaven of Devas of the Sphere of Infinite Space.

B. THE SIXTEEN LOWER BRAHMA REALMS (Rupa-loka).
1) The Heaven of Peerless Devas.
2) The Heaven of Clear-sighted Devas.
3) The Heaven of Beautiful Devas.
4) The Heaven of Untroubled Devas.
5) The Heaven of Devas not Falling Away (Aviha).
6) The Heaven of Unconscious Devas.
7) The Heaven of Very Fruitful Devas.
8) The Heaven of Devas of Refulgent Glory.
9) The Heaven of Devas of Unbounded Glory.
10) The Heaven of Devas of Limited Glory.
11) The Heaven of Devas of Streaming Radiance (Abhassara).
12) The Heaven of Devas of Unbounded Radiance.
13) The Heaven of Devas of Limited Radiance.
14) The Heaven of Great Brahmas.
15) The Heaven of Ministers of Brahma.
16) The Heaven of Retinue of Brahma.

C. THE TWELVE WORLDS OF SENSE DESIRE (Kama-loka).
1) The Heaven of Those who Delight in the Creations of Others.
2) The Heaven of Those who Delight in Creating.
3) The Heaven of the Contented.
4) The Heaven of the Devas of the Hours.
5) The Heaven of the Thirty-three Gods (Tavatimsa).
6) The Heaven of the Four Great Kings.
7) The Realm of the Earth Spirits.
8) The Human Realm.
9) The Animal Realm.
10) The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts.
11) The Realm of the Jealous Gods (Asuras).
12) The Hell Realms.

2. Page 38 — the three kinnaris… Kinnaris are also a class of bhumma-deva and are semi-ethereal, that is to say they eat material food, can be harmed by weapons but are not visible to all people. They are sometimes referred to as the ‘twice-born’ as their young are said to be hatched from eggs that have been laid in a nest; for example: “soon the lady kinnarī was pregnant, and later brought forth two eggs.” (‘Three Worlds According to King Ruang,’ p. 210). This has led to them being depicted, in some traditional Buddhist paintings and statues, as having a human upper part to their body but also having wings and legs like a bird. In the scriptures themselves, however, they always have a fully human form, indeed, the word ‘kinnari’ is usually translated as ‘fairy’ in Pali Text Society editions of the Buddhist stories.
Good descriptions of their nature and characteristics are found in the Jātakas – ‘The Stories of the Buddha’s Former Births’ – at Jats. §§481, 485, 504 & 540, especially §485.

3. Page 38 — difficult in the beginning… This statement is a play on the frequent description of the Buddha’s teaching, the Dhamma, as: “lovely in its beginning, lovely in its middle and lovely in its ending…’ (eg at D 2.40)

4. Page 39 — A huge burly red-eyed form … unblinking… “The eyes of ogres are red and do not wink, they cast no shadow and are free from all fear.” (Jat. §518, Vol. V, p. 18, PTS)

5. Page 39 — his favourite quarry, fresh human flesh… As described, for example, in Jats. §§366, 398, 510 & 537. In Jat. §513 a yakkhini seizes two new-born princes and eats them “…before the very eyes of the queen, and crunching and devouring…” In Jat §469 Ālavaka is mentioned as a ‘tree-demon’ who ate one person a day.

6. Page 39 — The yakkha, not the quickest of thinkers… Yakkhas, for such is this ogrish being, are a type of ‘celestial demon’ — they are a class of beings in The Heaven of the Four Great Kings. Their particular king is called Vessavana or sometimes Kuvera.

7. Page 39 — all decked out in flowers … like pollen-eaters… The description of kinnaris as being decorated with flower-gauze and eating pollen can be found in Jat. §485

8. Page 39 — “Stand not between a yakkha chieftain and his prey!”… This expression is borrowed from the declaration of the chief of the ring-wraiths, the Witch King of Angmar, to Princess Eowyn on the battlefield, in The Return of the King, by J.R.R. Tolkien.

9. Page 40 — the name is Gumbiya… This is the name of a yakkha in Jat. §366.

10. Page 41 — studded with iron spikes and naga-teeth… Nagas are celestial dragons and serpents; they are another class of beings in the realm of the Four Great Kings. Virupakkha is their leader.
The word ‘naga’ can also simply mean ‘great being,’ so it is sometimes used to refer to the Buddha or other enlightened ones; it is also used as a description for elephants.

11. Page 41 — clad in flower-gauze of kanavera petals… ‘Kanavera’ is oleander (Nerium odorum), a red flower common in India.

12. Page 41 — it’s not a matter of just reciting the words, you have to mean it … This principle was alluded to on many occasions by the Buddha; for example, in the Dhammapada: “Better than reciting a hundred meaningless verses is the reciting of one verse of Dhamma, hearing which one attains peace,” (Dhp 102 – see also Dhp. 258, 259, 393 & 394). Similarly, in the Itivuttaka: “It is through the Dhamma that one becomes a brahmin possessing the threefold knowledge; I do not say this of another merely because he can talk persuasively and recite,” (Iti 99). A comparable sentiment is also expressed S 35.132:
“But these have fallen, claiming, ‘We recite.’
Puffed up by clan, faring unrighteously,
Overcome by anger, armed with diverse [verbal] weapons,
They molest both frail and firm.

“…Fasting and sleeping on the ground,
Bathing at dawn, [study of] the Three Vedas,
Rough hides, matted locks and dirt;
Hymns, rules and vows, austerities,
Hypocrisy, bent staffs, ablutions:
These emblems of the brahmins
Are used to increase their worldly gains.”

13. Page 41 — “Don’t you remember what happened to Suciloma?”… Suciloma (‘Needle-hair’) is a yakkha who, wishing to test the Buddha to see if he was a genuine monk or not, came close and loomed over him, opening his mouth wide and raising the needle-like hairs all over his body. The Buddha drew back and the yakkha asked, “Are you afraid of me, monk?”
“I’m not afraid of you, friend, it’s just that your touch is evil.”
This comment angered the yakkha and he said, “I’ll ask you a question and, if you won’t answer me, I’ll drive you insane, or I’ll split your heart, or I’ll grab you by the feet an hurl you across the Ganges River.”
The Buddha was easily able to answer the question and thus prevented the yakkha from making the attempt to harm him; this story appears at S 10.3.

14. Page 42 — “It was a bright, full moon night,”… The yakkhas mentioned in the original story are not named; the incident is recounted at Ud. 4.4.

15. Page 43 — The seven rough tufts… This is a physical characteristic of some yakkhas, as in Jat. §519.

16. Page 43 — one of the campaigns of King Indra against the asuras… ‘Indra’ is the Sanskrit form of the name of the King of the Heaven of the Thirty-three Gods; ‘Inda’ is the Pali form. He is also known as ‘Sakka’ in the Pali texts which translates as ‘Shakra’ in Sanskrit.
There are many accounts in the scriptures of regular wars between the devas and the asuras – the Jealous Gods, or Titans.

17. Page 43 — what about the warding charm that your own king… Vessavana, composed to protect the Buddha’s disciples… The account of King Vessavana suggesting such a protective chant and its approval by the Buddha are to be found in the Ātānātiya Sutta, D 32. A somewhat amended text of the original verse, in the form in which it is recited in Thailand, is to be found on pp 62-67 in the Abhayagiri chanting book: http://www.abhayagiri.org/main/book/288/

18. Page 44 — dun-die-finish-mata-mata… This is a pidgin English phrase that was a favourite expression of my father, picked up on his travels in Africa and India with his pack-horse brigade during the Second World War.

19. Page 46 — the Elder nun Uppalavanna… She was the nun most gifted with psychic powers and thus able to see into other realms of existence.