Mangala Chapter Fifteen: War in Heaven

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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

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

ndlessly, and mostly patiently, Dusaka responded to Krishna’s questions. Although it seemed that, for every perplexity he cleared up, along with each answer came another dozen mysteries.

The current hottest area of interest had, ironically, been stirred up by Rama. While he had ironically been named after one of the deified heroes of legend – the husband of the virtuous and beautiful Sita, after whom Kamanita’s first wife had also been named – he was the most ardent of scientific types within the group of youths and he vigorously opposed the idea that people such as his namesake had ever existed. Page 2 of 23

He was even more keen to launch into argument if anyone even so much as mentioned the names of any gods or goddesses, or spoke of devas, spirits or other invisible realms of any kind.

“For example,” he began one day, when warming to his theme after Govinda, who tended to be the big joker of the group, had remarked that Ajjuna when nursing his most recent hangover, was as grumpy as an asura who’d been trussed up after losing a fight with the devas. “People say that in ages past there was a great war between the so-called devas and the so-called asuras – right?”

The cluster of boys lounging in the spacious reception hall overlooking the garden grunted their assent to this or wagged their heads in agreement. “Well, I’ve listened to the story-tellers who come from the far west with the carpet traders and gold merchants and, in their stories, it’s quite the other way around!”

“What’s the other way round?” Hari was doing his best to follow but thought he’d lost the drift.

“Good and evil – their tales, their ‘religion,’ ” and he let the word out as if it tasted sour and slimy, “has goodness being represented by ‘Ahura-mazda’ and it’s the ‘devi’ who are evil – you see?!”

“See what?” Hari still wasn’t getting it.

“That these so-called ‘deities’ are just random inventions, yagu-brain! Look, here in Jambudipa ‘deva’ equals good, ‘asura’ equals bad; in the west ‘devi’ equals bad, ‘asura’ equals good. All this, if you ask me, is the result of some half-remembered war between the Devi tribe and the Ahura tribe, or Deva and Asura, and the tradition of who’s called good and who’s bad just depends on which side of the Kirthar mountain range you happened to be born on. Isn’t it obvious?”

“What’s that funny thing up there?” Govinda pointed over Rama’s head with a shocked expression on his face. All the boys looked at the space above their friend but nothing was immediately apparent.

“Sorry, for a moment Page 3 of 23

it looked like Vajrapani there, with a thunderbolt, ready to break Ram’s head into seven pieces.”

* * *

As was his habit Krishna had stored up this debate and then brought it to Dusaka to hear his take on things. He had kept his friendship with the gardener to himself and, as most of the boys had many other things to be occupying their minds these days – now that they had almost completed their studies and family duties were beginning to press more and more – it was not difficult to find time alone with his eccentric mentor.

“Rama’s talking rubbish, isn’t he?” Krishna offered, having just recounted their earlier talk.

“I wouldn’t say he’s so far off the mark, in some ways.”

“You can’t mean that! After all you’ve told me – that long history of the world, and the strange karma of my family – how can you say that there are no gods and spirits, no other worlds? Was that all just made up to keep me quiet?”

“If so, it didn’t work, did it?” Dusaka smiled at him; they both recalled the blizzard of questions that had followed Dusaka’s recital. “No, he’s close to the mark in that he only wants to believe in what he can see and hear and sense. Don’t you think that that’s worthwhile, to try not to be too credulous? Sounds wise to me. He’s just doubting that which should be doubted.

“Where he goes too far is to assume that, just because he’s never seen something, it therefore cannot exist, eh?” He fixed his eye on Krishna and held his attention, quietly waiting while this sank in.

“But everyone knows there’re gods and demons, ghosts and spirits; people go to the temples all the time. Not everyone who visits there can be wrong, surely?”

“And just because the jar is clearly labeled ‘SALT,’ it will make the soup taste good, even if it’s only sand that’s in there, eh? I don’t think so.”

“How can anyone know Page 4 of 23

what’s true about the gods and spirits if nobody can see them anyway? If it’s wrong to believe in what you can’t see… what can you do?” Krishna was really knotted up now. Dusaka seemed to have carefully led him into the corner of a maze and then, as he often did, blithely abandoned him there.

“What can you do, indeed?” He then said a few words to Tingri at his knee-side and, as usual, the dog seemed to snuffle and bark some response as the two of them shared a private joke at Krishna’s expense.

He now noticed, when the wave of indignation had subsided, that Dusaka was looking at him a little strangely. He was familiar with a variety of odd facial expressions his mentor used. The network of folds and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth seemed to be able to display four or five distinct moods and messages simultaneously, but at this moment he seemed to be both glaring and staring into his eyes with a pronounced this-is-a-hint flavour to the mixture.

Looking… watching… seeing… what does he mean?...? Krishna searched and racked his brain, “Seeing! We can learn how to see! Beings in other realms…?! Is that right?” He had already guessed he’d hit the mark as Tingri barked sharply a couple of times as soon as he spoke.

“Very good. We don’t have to believe blindly, if we can learn to see for ourselves.”

Krishna was proud that he’d solved this particular puzzle so quickly, and he decided to not make anything of Dusaka’s tone that made it sound as if he had been addressing a four-year-old rather than a near-grown man of almost sixteen.

* * *

“Twilight is best, at dusk or the hour just before dawn. Here in Ujjeni the light changes fast – from day to night and vice versa – but still that window works best for beginners.”

Right now it was sunset and, rather than going to bathe at this usual time, Krishna and Dusaka were down at Page 5 of 23

the far eastern end of the gardens. They were well-sheltered from the house by the large banyan tree that Krishna used to climb and by the thick shrubbery nearby. There were a few glades in that area that contained votive shrines for local spirits. He and Dusaka found their way through the paths to one of these – it was an open space, ringed about with trees and with the stone shrine set at the foot of a tall kapok.

“Have you ever noticed how,” Dusaka began, “when the air is quite still, sometimes you’ll see just a handful of leaves rustling on a branch? Just a few twigfuls astir when all about them nothing moves – you ever noticed that?”

“For sure. I’ve always just assumed it was a small current of air moving because,” he added pointedly, “I can’t see anything else going on.”

“‘Assumed’ being the operative word,” Dusaka put in his own footnote. “Of course, sometimes it is a mere twisting of the air – although that too is a small miracle in its own right but that can be a lesson for another day – at other times it is not.

“Look over there by the shrine, to the left of the monument – what do you see?”

“A bush – I don’t know, an azalea?”

“This is not a botany lesson today. Don’t look at the bush but don’t look away. Let your vision relax so that you’re trying but not trying, focusing but not focusing, directed but undirected. Don’t think about it, but be undistracted. What do you see?” Krishna looked as instructed.

“It was blurry, but then things got luminous around the edges for a moment.”

“Stay with that luminous quality – as the light of evening comes, that will get easier for a while.” Dusaka was staring himself at the same spot, his eyes flicking from side to side or up into the branches now and then.

“Oh! What…?”

“What did you see?”

“Just for a moment where the Page 6 of 23

leaves rustled, there seemed to be something moving at the edges of my vision but when I tried to look right at it, there was nothing. It was a faint blur of a pinkish colour. I think.”

“Don’t think. Relax your eyes again and look back at the same spot.” Dusaka shifted his staff and rested his leg while he too brought his gaze to bear on the space by the small stone shrine, covered with the floral offerings of the last few months and wrapped with orange and red cloths that had been consecrated to the guardian devas of that grove.

Krishna was trying his hardest not to try but his keenness to succeed in the task kept creating a stress, an edge that made his mind too sharp. Despair and annoyance at failure would then well up and he felt his mood go flat.

“Oh well, I just don’t think I…” Krishna’s voice petered out. He had been paying attention but he had just resolved that it was not working, and that he might as well rest, when for a moment – at the very moment he gave up, in fact – he saw the distinct forms of three young female beings of a pure and delicate beauty. Their clothing had the opalescent sheen and texture of flower petals; one was very tall and stern-looking while the other two were smaller and benign. They were a blurred shimmering presence of magentas and salmon pink, of ruby-red and garnet and – for the instant he beheld them – they seemed to be waving vigorously and smiling at him. As if they had been trying to attract his attention for a while.

“Look! Oh… They’re gone.” His excitement at the vision had had the effect of immediately dispelling what he’d seen. For a few minutes he tried with intense effort to relax and be effortless again but he couldn’t quite seem to find the balance.

“Dammit, how do I…?” He remembered Dusaka was at his side and, as he turned to look for aid Page 7 of 23

from him, he felt his teacher receiving his frustration, taking it gently into his hands, rolling it up into a small ball and then tossing it into the air, for Tingri to play with.

“Very good, for a first try – I shouldn’t say it but you probably have something of a talent for this.” His complete non-reference to Krishna’s inability to refocus and his having been thwarted, coupled with the words of praise and affirmation, switched his mood from dark to light in an instant.

“Now you’ve got the basic knack it’s just a matter of refining it. The more you get the hang of it, the more you’ll see.

“Shall we give him the tour, Tingri?” The lame monk leaned down and tousled the dog’s head. The light was fading fast now and the noisy ringing of crickets was rising.

He leaned his staff over his left shoulder and eased the weight off his weaker foot. Reaching out his right hand, he took hold of Krishna’s left. His palm and fingers were calloused but his grip was gentle.

“Ready?”

“For wh…”

As if matching the rhythm of his breathing, a pulsing succession of images appeared before the boy: at first the three rosy-coloured devas were all he saw; they were then seen to be accompanied by a rich array of taller, shorter, frail and thick, gnarly, dew- bedecked and wider beings that seemed the very stuff of green- and tree-life, bloom and berry, of rock and river-water; then stately folk of brawny arms and steady eye, armour-clad women and men, yet bright and cool and strong; then spreading round on every side and up above him too, a multi-coloured grand array of faces shining, diadems and rings and bells with ribbons of every hue; the forms of trees and garden-earth fell into dim display as once again the host increased, the light yet brighter still; now human forms began to be quite lost in the parade of radiant lights and fragrances, the ringing songs, the dance; rank upon rank in Page 8 of 23

tiers of light, diamond-hued and bold, the numbers grew, the space thrown wide; and grew and grew again; a radiance that would have burned an eye of flesh now filled his heart, infinities of infinities burst forth on every side; dimensions within dimensions; light multiplying light, celebrating itself lushly until all form was lost to him, his body and the garden – all was gone – for in that breath, now beyond the realm of space, well beyond no-thingness, beyond infinity of mind and beyond perception, he was light of light, the stuff of life, he was the universe itself.

Dusaka released his hand. “So, now you’ve met some of the family.”

* * *

During the following weeks Krishna was indeed able to develop the knack and slowly became more adept at seeing and engaging with the various families of celestial beings in the vicinity.

The earth-spirits, being of the coarsest realm above the human, were the easiest to see. Once he had learned how to stabilize his attention he sought out the three devas whom he had first seen in the glade. When he returned to the shrine where he had spotted them he saw that they were in deep conversation with the rukkha-deva of the kapok tree in whose boughs they were all settled. He did not know why but there seemed to be an anxious tension in the air.

Despite this disquieting feeling, the three companions and their dryad friend all dropped from the branches and came to him wreathed in smiles – the air filled with a subtle mixture of earthy perfumes, as if Krishna was smelling for the first time ever what the fragrance of a flower truly was.

“You’re Amba’s brother, aren’t you?” Maggot chirped excitedly, at exactly the same time as Ant and Bee spoke too. “We’re so glad to see you, and now to talk…”

“Hang on, hang on. I’m very glad to meet you too. I’m not very experienced in seeing… er…. What exactly are you? Anyway, please speak at little slower and Page 9 of 23

one by one, then I’ll be able to follow.” Krishna was grinning and absurdly happy to be having this conversation. This was not just some strange creation of Dusaka’s; this was he, by himself, talking with beings of other realms. This meant that, for absolutely sure, there was more to life than had met his eye so far. The world suddenly felt so much bigger once again.

“We are kinnaris, earth spirits who live close to the flower realm. We are not as solid as humans, but we are substantial enough to touch.” Bee then reached out and pressed her fist into Krishna’s chest, firmly but gently so he could feel the pressure.

“It also means we can be harmed by material things and are nourished by them too – so…” continued Bee, giving her kinnari-life-in-a-nutshell speech, “…on a bad day we can be shot with an arrow but on a good one we can scoff bags of pollen and drink our fill of honey-dew and nips of nectar-mead.”

“Bee!” Maggot chimed in, “don’t put him off already. We’ve hardly said hello yet.”

“We know your sister Amba; at least that was her name when we met her. She’s now Queen Samavati of Vamsa, and a very fine lady too.”

“A queen! My sister? How did she manage that? And what about my other sister Tamba and my second mother?”

The kinnaris brought Krishna up to date with what they knew, how they had had a lot of contact with his elder sister but that they had sad news for him about Tamba; both she and Sita had died on the road to Kosambi. The mother had never managed to reach the city and find out if his father, Kamanita, had resettled there.

“I’ve heard myself,” said Krishna, “that my father will never come back here but I also don’t know if he ever went to Kosambi again; as far as I’m aware he’s still a wandering monk someplace. The gardener here – he’s actually a monk too, of some sort – he knows Page 10 of 23

a bit about what’s happened to us all…” His voice tailed off.

“So they died…” He could not say that he felt a great sense of loss for his second mother, Sita, she had always been nasty to him as a small child, forever making some minor slight or a gesture of disfavour whenever she was able to, but to know he had lost Tamba forever brought tears into his eyes.

“I would have thought it would have been the other way round – Amba was always a bit on the weak side and Tamba – I just remember her as being so daring, but I suppose you can never tell.”

“So,” he wanted to change the subject, “what brings you all the way to Ujjeni?”

“To meet you, of course,” Bee refrained from adding ‘dummy.’ “Or at least to see how you have been doing. We’ve come out this way a couple of times before but you could never see us until now. We want to keep Samavati up on how you are, so we make the journey. It’s a bit more risky nowadays so I’m not sure…” Ant looked anxiously into Bee’s face as she said this.

“What’s risky? If most people can’t see you, they can’t do you any harm, surely?” Krishna asked. For, although this whole domain was new to him, he had a habit of trying to seem authoritative regardless.

“It’s not the people,” said Maggot.

“It’s the asuras, and a band of rebel yakkhas who have joined them, at least that’s what every deva seems to think,” the tree-spirit joined in. “Rumours have been spreading about attacks in recent times – the word is out that a new war in heaven might be brewing.”

“The rukkha-deva was just telling us,” Maggot came closer to Krishna and he could see the traces of a genuine fear within her eyes. “We’d noticed that things were quieter, less folk around, but there were tales of random killings and destruction as well. We didn’t see anything between Kosambi and Page 11 of 23

here ourselves, but there was tension in the air and many bhumma-devas of all kinds were lying low.”

“It’s been the same here around Ujjeni,” the rukkha-deva added, stepping closer to the group. She was a tall, elegant being adorned in strange filmy garments of grey-green, with edges and corners that bore spiky nubbins, just like the kapok tree’s trunk, and mysterious ridged traceries worked from the fluffy white interior of her tree’s fruit-pods. She picked up the story and continued:

“There were only rumours until we heard the news from the royal naga who lives here in the palace lake. She goes by the name of Samuddaja, she is the younger sister of Irandati; they were both born as naga princesses although she is now a queen, married to King Virupakkha, lord of the nagas himself. Princess Irandati is the beloved of General Punnaka, a mighty yakkha and the nephew of King Vessavana, you know, Kuvera, king of the yakkhas and the Northern Quarter. Both the General and the King saw the wreckage for themselves.

“In the Heaven of the Thirty-three, above the realm of Guardian Kings, mighty Indra holds the throne. The capital of that beauteous land is named Masakkasara. Within the bounds of its vast and wide protective walls there are four parks: Nanadana in the east, Pharusaka in the south, Cittalata in the west and Missaka to the north; all these are places of great beauty with lakes and jeweled halls; gem-studded turrets stand upon the gates.

“There is yet one other, known just as The Great Park, and it lies outside the city walls, to the north-east. It has a gold wall surrounding it, with gem turrets atop its gates, 250 leagues it is around; in this park there are one thousand golden mansions and pavilions decorated with the seven kinds of gems – rubies, emeralds and sapphires, diamonds and pearls, amethysts and blood-red carnelians. Between this park and the city walls of Masakkasara, there lies a lake both vast and pure, its floor is all bejeweled. Or, at least, Page 12 of 23

’til recently it was so.

“Not one moon back Lord Indra went off travelling while his son, Prince Suvira was, as customary, busy at his pleasure through the night. The devas of the Thirty-three awoke that day to find The Great Park thrown to ruin – the gates destroyed, the jewels purloined, the lake all filled with filth; the thousand towered mansions and pavilions burned and smashed, the ground was strewn with dead and broken bodies.

“A cry went up – a wail of grief was heard throughout the land. The perpetrator of the raid was Vepacitti and his band.”

The dryad Alambusa finished her account and a dense uncomfortable silence filled the grove.

“At least,” Maggot began, “they think it was Vepacitti but no one is absolutely sure. An old supanna, one of the giant garuda eagles, came here to Ujjeni by the same way as us – at least we crossed paths when she spent the hours of darkness on a crag above where we rested, as we travelled here. She had just come down from the mountains’ foot, north of Uttarakuru and word there was that King Rahu, lord of the asuras and the most powerful of them all, denied any knowledge of the deed.

“‘I have no ready sympathies for the deva horde,’ he said, ‘nevertheless, by my word and surely as Yugandhara Mountain sits upon the Earth, I tell you I have had no part in this – and an evil bourn awaits all those who lie. Nevertheless,’ and she recounted that he had apparently chuckled nastily as he said it, ‘Pubbavideha in the east is a sovereign realm and its ruler, Lord Vepacitti, can do as he likes, can he not?’”

* * *

“Surely Indra would be strong enough to capture the asura Vepacitti – isn’t he the king of the whole Heaven of the Thirty-three Gods? How could they not raise and army that was capable of that? Aren’t they a lot more powerful than the asuras? Don’t they have the Buddha and Page 13 of 23

the arahants on their side?” Krishna was pummeling his mentor with questions once again.

“The Buddha, and all other wanderers,” Dusaka spread his arms slightly and bowed his head to indicate that he was including himself in this, “do not take sides, when it comes to fights. Even if someone wants to pick an argument with us: ‘I do not dispute with the world,’ the Master once said, ‘it is the world that disputes with me’; that is,” he added with a grin, “if there’s any contention going on in the first place.” Thunder rolled and grumbled in the distance, somewhere off above the Vindhaya Mountains to their south; it was that season of occasional storms just before the monsoon proper began.

“It’s not because the Buddha is weak-willed either, or that he never learned how to fight – if that’s what you’re thinking” – he cocked his head and Krishna cast his eyes down as that was exactly what had popped into his mind. “He is a warrior-noble by birth; he grew up learning how to fight, to lead an army, he knows much more about weapons, combat and strategy than you could ever hope to.

“It’s because he knows, and all of us monks and nuns of various types know too, that he can serve best by being a promoter of peace to all.

“One year there was a drought up in the north and, by the month of Jetthamula, the Rohini River was very low. The Koliyans on the one side and the Sakyans on the other both came to the conclusion that there might be enough water for one set of crops, but not enough for two so each had sent out work-parties to re-direct the flow.

“‘Our crops will ripen with a single watering,’ said the Koliyans, ‘let us have the water.’ The Sakyans replied, ‘So what do you expect us to do; go from house to house in Koliya begging for food from you? We don’t think so…’ And the dispute waxed hot, as they say. Soon the rival Page 14 of 23

groups who wanted to divert the river came to blows and ugly insults were hurled back and forth: ‘You bunch of lepers!’ ‘You gormless yokels!’ – well, you get the general idea.

“Word reached the ministers who had commissioned the irrigation dams, they informed the royals and, next thing, both have armies lined up facing each other over the river’s diminishing waters: ‘We’ll show you what “lepers” can do!’ “Yeah right! Are you ready to get it from the “yokels”?’ And on and on.

“The Buddha got wind of the dispute and realized, ‘If I don’t go to them, these misguided people will destroy each other,’ and so he made his way to that very place at the river.

“Now, even though he was a Sakyan by birth and he could easily have wielded his psychic powers to guarantee success for his kin in a battle, he saw it was more important for both sides to appreciate that the welfare and happiness of all concerned would best be served by learning how to abandon hatred.

“He used his psychic powers anyway, just to get the mob to listen, since it’s easier to get the attention of a bunch of angry soldiers by floating up into the air than by trying to start a reasonable conversation. Cross-legged he lifted off and then hovered over the centre of the Rohini River.

“‘What is this dispute about, my friends?’

“‘Water, Venerable Sir.’

“‘How much is a barrel of water worth?’

“‘Not much,’ replied both sides at once.

“‘And a barrel of the blood of warrior-nobles?’

“‘Every drop is precious!’

“The Master then let them digest what they had all just said, the foot-soldiers, the kings and generals that were ready for the fight, then he said:

“‘Is it fitting that, because of a little water, you should shed the blood of kshatriyas, warrior-nobles, which you agree is beyond price?’ They were all silent.

“‘Great Kings,’ he continued, ‘were I not here today you would have set flowing a river of blood. Page 15 of 23

You oppress yourselves by living in such enmity. Please use the memory of this day to guide your hearts:

“‘While in the midst of hate,
To dwell free from hatred
Is happiness indeed.’

“To their surprise, the Sakyans and the Koliyans soon found that by the careful use of what water was there and by sharing all they had, both clans were able to make it through that hot season unscathed. Nobody starved and nobody was killed.”

* * *

Dusaka was tending some of the ornamental flower-beds, clipping dead or overgrown limbs of various bushes and tugging out the abundant weeds; each time he took hold of a plant he briefly bowed his head and muttered some verse under his breath that Krishna never could quite catch.

The Rains were upon them and the dry periods in daylight, when Dusaka could do his ‘actual’ work at the palace, were few and far between. He kept up a brisk pace while Krishna hung at his elbow. During these times Krishna had managed to convince his mother that he’d become fascinated with the arts of the garden and needed to study with Dusaka on a daily basis to absorb all he could. His classmates were also absent these days as the rain kept most people indoors and the brahmin pundit, his instructor in arms and the music master habitually took this time of the year off to attend to other duties. It was also hard to speak, or sing and play against the roaring wall of noise that came with the frequent downpours, while combat training outdoors in the wet was impossible.

“You remember,” Krishna was doing his best to keep up, weed-basket in hand. “Years ago you told me about a mangala that could defeat Death. Would that be a good weapon? You know, something the devas could use to beat the asuras if a big war was to break out?”

“How do you think that might help?” Dusaka stopped to spread the fronds of a bush that had just finished flowering Page 20 of 23

to keep you safe.”

Krishna reached forward with his left hand as his right was temporarily out of action. In a state of startled wonderment he took hold of the charm and its scraggy cord. His right arm still tingled and seemed feeble, but he slowly raised it and bent the fingers until the mangala was nestled between both palms.

“Pick up your stuff,” said Dusaka, “come on, it’s about to rain.”

≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡

Notes and References:

Chapter 15

1. Page 202 —War in Heaven … The title of this chapter comes from ‘Paradise Lost,’ Book I, l. 43.

2. Page 202 — an asura who’d been trussed up after losing a fight... As is described at S 11.4 and at S 35.248.

3. Page 202 — the story tellers who come from the far west… In this instance, Persia/Iran.

4. Page 203 — these so-called ‘deities’ are just random inventions, yagu-brain… Yāgu is a form of rice-gruel or porridge.

5. Page 203 — the Kirthar mountain range… These are the mountains between India and Iran. These reflections come courtesy of Carl Sagan, from his novel, ‘Contact,’ p. 199.

6. Page 203 — Vajrapani with a thunderbolt… As is described at M35.14: “Now on that occasion a thunderbolt-wielding spirit holding an iron thunderbolt that burned, blazed and glowed, appeared in the air above Saccaka the Nigantha’s son, thinking: ‘If this Saccaka the Nigantha’s son, when asked a reasonable question up to the third time by the Blessed One, still does not answer, I shall split his head into seven pieces here and now.’
‘Vajrapani’ literally means ‘lightning-fist.’ See also Ch. 14, note §13.

7. Page 204 — no gods and spirits, no other worlds… The faith in the existence of other realms, past or future lives etc. is part of ‘mundane Right View,’ in the Buddha’s teaching. This is outlined, for example, at M 117.7 “…there is this world and the other world.”

8. Page 204 — He’s just doubting that which should Page 21 of 23

be doubted… This is an important feature of the Buddhist approach to understanding how things work. It is well described in the Kālāma Sutta, A 3.65.

9. Page 206 — made his mind too sharp... felt his mind go flat… At S1.1 the Buddha describes his own efforts at trying to find the right balance: “When I struggled I got swept away when I halted, I sank…by not halting and not straining, I crossed the flood.”
The Buddha also encouraged the former lutanist Sona Kolivisa by reminding him of how he used to tune his instrument – this story is to be found at A 6.55 & Vin. MV 5.1.

10. Page 206 — at the very moment he gave up… It was also at the moment of giving up that Ven. Ānanda’s awakening occurred, just before the First Council; see CV 11.1.

11. Pages 207-8 — The succession of beings described here (roughly) matches traditional Buddhist cosmology from the earth spirits up to the formless deities.

the very stuff of green- and tree-life… Bhumma-deva, the earth spirits
then stately folk of brawny arms and steady eye… Retinue of the Four Great Kings
multi-coloured grand array… Heaven of the Thirty-three Gods.
as once again the host increased… Yāma-deva, the ‘Devas of the Hours’
radiant lights and fragrances… Tusita-deva, the ‘Contented’
tiers of light… ‘The Heaven of Those who Delight in Creating’
and grew again… ‘The Heaven of Those Who Delight in Other’s Creations’
radiance that would have burned… Brahma-realms of Form
all form was lost… Formless brahma-realms
beyond the realm of space… The highest of the formless brahma-realms.

At D 20.6 it also highlights how different beings experience things in different ways:

“With superhuman vision thus arising
some saw a hundred gods, a thousand some.
While some saw 70,000, others saw
Gods innumerable, all around
And He-Who-Knows-With-Insight was aware
Of all that they could see and understand.”

12. Page 208 — he was the universe itself… This is a delusion, albeit an understandable one, of Krishna’s. The Buddha describes