Once a Peacock, Once an Actress

Twenty-Four Lives of the Bodhisattva from Haribhatta's "Jatakamala"

Haribhatta, Peter Khoroche

• Publisher: University of Chicago Press
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9780226485966, 9780226485829
• eBook ISBN: 9780226486017
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

Written in Kashmir around 400 CE, Haribhatta's Jåtakamåla is a remarkable example of classical Sanskrit literature in a mixture of prose and verse that for centuries was known only in its Tibetan translation. But between 1973 and 2004 a large portion of the Sanskrit original was rediscovered in a number of anonymous manuscripts. With this volume Peter Khoroche offers the most complete translation to date, making almost 80 percent of the work available in English.
 
Haribhatta's Jåtakamålå is a sophisticated and personal adaptation of popular stories, mostly non-Buddhist in origin, all illustrating the future Buddha's single-minded devotion to the good of all creatures, and his desire, no matter what his incarnation—man, woman, peacock, elephant, merchant, or king—to assist others on the path to nirvana. Haribhatta's insight into human and animal behavior, his astonishing eye for the details of landscape, and his fine descriptive powers together make this a unique record of everyday life in ancient India as well as a powerful statement of Buddhist ethics. This translation will be a landmark in the study of Buddhism and of the culture of ancient India.
 

1

King Prabhāsa

[1] None but the noble-hearted make the momentous vow to become a Buddha so as to rescue the world from the hell of repeated existences, that snake pit, which teems with every sort of affliction.

According to tradition there was in the past a capital city called Prabhāvatī, resplendent as the sky when adorned by the unblemished autumn moon and its host of stars. Parks that were always in bloom graced its outskirts and in between the houses colonnades encrusted with gems and gold enhanced the lanes, the crossings and the markets bustling with an endless throng of people. And in it, like a jewel of immaculate splendor in the necklace of his wife, the entire earth, lived King Prabhāsa.

[2] As they adorned themselves, the women in his palace could see their ear-ornaments and the vermilion beauty marks on their foreheads reflected in its walls of pure crystal: their tender hands were spared the trouble of holding up a mirror. [3] His relatives saw him in the role of a cloud, making the seeds of his merit sprout with the water of his gifts, while even his most powerful foes could not withstand his fury that in an instant flashed out like lightning.

One day the king, preeminent in wealth as in prowess, was seated on his throne, both sides of which were inset with thousands of flawless jewels. He looked like the sun resting on the peak of the eastern mountain. A host of Brahmans, neighboring rulers, ministers, and emissaries was seated according to rank, while the doorkeepers barred ordinary people who aroused their suspicion. Elephants, horses, and chariots were tethered outside.

As the king surveyed this gathering, some woodsmen turned up and were ushered in. Kneeling on the ground and stammering in awe—such was their natural simplicity—they gabbled out their news: [4] “We’ve seen an elephant, white14 as a bed of water lilies, one of a herd, deep in the mountains. He looks like the top of Himalaya when its bottom is hidden by a mass of fresh clouds. Now it is for Your Majesty to decide if he is to be captured.”

With the onset of autumn the king felt a growing eagerness to capture the elephant.15 As he passed the fields that bordered towns and villages, he could hear the roots of nut grass and couch grass crack as the ploughshare tore them up. When the girls guarding the fields clapped their hands and snapped their fingers, parrots flew up in fright and the flapping of their wings shook the awns of the ripe brown rice. Crows nervously hopped close to some ploughmen being waited upon by women, who had brought them their meal. A herd of buffalo cows stood ruminating in the muddy water of a pond and kept the flies from settling by twitching their muzzles. The tinkle of bells shaken by a grazing herd of cows could be heard. Herons, greylags, and pairs of shelduck entangled themselves with the lotus stalks in the paddy fields. A white parasol sheltered the king on his royal chariot from the heat of the sun’s rays until at last he entered the mountain forest where the many herds of deer scattered in fright at his retinue, whose horses crushed the grass under their hooves.

[5] From afar the king saw the lord of the elephants standing in the midst of his herd, crushing an incense tree, which gave off a powerful scent. With an occasional flap of his ears he scattered the swarm of bees that hovered near the streaks of must-juice on his temples. “Let us see this lord of elephants do battle with one of our own rutting elephants,” thought Prabhāsa and said to Saṃyāta, his mahout: “Lift the cloth off the face of our prize elephant and goad him to fight this wild one.” “As Your Majesty commands,” replied the mahout. By slapping him he first roused the fighting spirit in that elephant, who normally served as a bulwark against enemy troops, then confronted him with his opponent.

At the sight of each other the two elephants grew angry and their flow of must-juice greatly increased: trails of drops sprinkled the dusty ground and made it smell sweet. The clash of their tusks, heavy as door-bars, made a terrifying noise as they fought it out under the eyes of the soldiers, who shouted: “This one’s done for,” “This one’s had it.” [6] The blows they exchanged cut their faces. Their bulging eyes were bloodshot. Flapping their differently colored ears, they offset each other like two clouds, white and black. Angrily they held aloft their thick trunks, twitching at the tips, and revealed their palates that looked like pale pink buds. [7] Due to the friction of the white elephant’s tusks the iron tusk-sheaths of the king’s elephant were flecked with sparks and then came loose. [8] And when the royal elephant was defeated by the white one its mahout hid his face in shame. The lord of the elephants returned to his herd and the king, though he remained inscrutable, was amazed.

His elephant keepers then approached King Prabhāsa and said: “Your Majesty, even with the combined strength of all our elephants it would be hard to get the better of this one. But magic herbs should bring him under control.” The king gave his approval and returned to the capital, while they used this ploy to bring the must-elephant and its entourage of females into the elephant stable, tied him to a post and reported to the king that they had brought in the elephant. The king then said to Saṃyāta the mahout: “My good fellow, I want you to train this lordly elephant so that I can ride it.” Bowing his head, Saṃyāta acknowledged the royal command and began training the elephant. [9] And like an intelligent pupil, the elephant mastered every skill the mahout taught him. [10] Then, leading in the great elephant, who robbed other elephants of their ardor and pride, the mahout bowed his head, politely folded his hands and said to the king: [11] “My lord, the elephant is tame and will prove a formidable bulwark against foreign kings. Now that he is fully trained not even must will lead him astray. [12] No need for hook or cane, no need even for a rider: he will remain steady. If I pressed him to do so, this elephant would swallow flaming hot balls of iron. [13] So, mount this rutting elephant that looks like Himalaya and try him out. Surely a connoisseur of gems, his curiosity once aroused, must judge them for himself?”

Then, like the sun surmounting a white autumn cloud, Prabhāsa mounted the elephant and, attended by the ladies of the palace, set out to divert himself in his pleasure grounds. [14] As he ambled along, the lord of the elephants caught sight of a she-elephant gracefully dowsing herself in a pond, crushing a lotus stalk whose shreds looked like bright fetters, and brushing a full-blown lotus with the tip of her trunk. [15] At the sight of that she-elephant, deep in the midst of those lotuses, the elephant lord was smitten to the core by the arrow of love. Though the mahout tried to restrain him with harsh, staccato shouts, he only ran the faster, while the startled she-elephant moved away. [16] As he pursued the fleeing she-elephant, leaving a white track in his wake, the king’s retainers, galloping behind, could hardly see him, like people on shore peering at a ship driven before the wind.

[17] “Never before have you driven us away. What do you mean by such cruelty?” Seeming thus to bemoan, a flight of bees followed in his path for a while. [18] Though he lacerated the two domes on the elephant’s forehead with lashes of his hook, the mahout could not hold it back. If his mind is blinded and besotted by passion, even a human being cannot be restrained, much less an animal.

Overcome with desire, the elephant, taking no notice of the blows of the hook, reached open country to which the she-elephant in her fright had hastily retreated. The king was still mounted on him, but blood was streaming from wounds to his thighs, shanks, arms, and chest from the thorny braches of vaṅga trees that had hit and slashed him.

Here the mountain gorges were murky with the smoke of forest fires and drab as a buffalo’s horn. The ground was very rough and in places littered with the shells of eggs that had fallen and smashed when birds’ nests were dislodged from the tops of trees uprooted by elephants. Vultures, crows, and jackals alighted on the scraps of flesh left on the carcasses of deer after tigers had eaten their fill. The shrill chirping of crickets made the place eerie and the sun’s rays scorched the waste of stone on the mountain heights. Altogether it was as unpleasant as keeping bad company.

[19] In the trees monkeys, their pink faces the color of ripe figs, momentarily stopped still in surprise at the sound of bells and saw the elephant, which had shaken off the hook, leaving that spot, dark with kuśa grass. Deer, with their mouths full of grass, raised their heads and also caught a glimpse of it.

Then the mahout said to the king: “Your Majesty, now that I’m without the hook, this elephant is completely unmanageable, like a wicked person who has lost all shame. Should this vicious beast by any chance pass under a tree, Your Majesty should hang onto a branch and get a purchase there.” The king’s diadem, armband, necklace, and shawl had all fallen off, but he did not despair of saving himself. Just as one tightly embraces one’s beloved, who is all eager after long separation, so he managed to grasp the branch of a fig tree, whose fruit, relished by parrots, resembled a woman’s vermilion-painted lips. And there he remained on a bough of that great tree.

[20] The tips of branches disarranged the chowries on the elephant’s ears as he went along. Once he was out of sight he was too far away for the king to hear the shrill jangle of his bells.

Meanwhile the king’s women entered the palace, their eyes brimming with tears. Distressed about their lord, they dropped to the ground and indulged in a long lament: [21] “He has fallen down some ravine scarred with scree and blocked with boulders. Unarmed as he is, how will the king get back from that frightful forest? [22] His shoulders and arms must be broken and limp after such a fall, or else he is weak with a raging thirst. How will he reach the water he yearns for when the needle-sharp kuśa grass pricks the soft soles of his feet? [23] How can an elephant have got him into such an unimaginable situation when he has his men as escort? And yet who can sidestep the paths of Fate, the giver of good and ill? [24] If something awful has happened to the king, we would certainly wish to die as well. A herd of she-elephants can take no pleasure in a mountain forest once a lion has killed its leader. [25] Pray God the mahout comes and tells us that our sovereign is alive. How we long to see the king again in all his glory, with that charming smile on his moonlike face.”

Tears washed away the lines of musk painted on their cheeks, as the king’s wives gave themselves up to this lament. His ministers tried to comfort them, then got into their palanquins and slowly moved off in a cavalcade. They followed the track where the turf and clods of earth had been crushed underfoot by the elephant and where the fresh grass at its edge was scented with scattered drops of must-juice over which a swarm of bees was hovering. [26] Then, by a hill, the king’s men noticed a necklace. Its many threads had tangled and finally snapped, so that the large central gem had fallen off and the soft grass was covered with strings of pearls, pale from rubbing against each other. In brightness they completely outshone the gleaming snakes, now roused from their torpor.

Catching sight of the necklace, the ministers felt sure the king must be nearby, and going a little further on, they caught sight of him under the fig tree. His body was weak and pale with thirst, his topknot tousled, and he was suffering pain from being slashed by those branches with their extremely sharp thorns. They were overjoyed and, getting down from their palanquins and horses, approached him as respectfully as the gods did Indra when he emerged from the hollow lotus stalk.16 The king then told them all that had happened to him and the ministers in their glee lifted him like Rāma onto his royal chariot and led him away from that wild region back to his city.17

On his return to the capital, Prabhāvatī, the citizens were so delighted that they organized a festival with elaborate dances. To archways they tied sweet-smelling garlands of various flowers, on which bees began to settle; they hoisted flags and banners and scented the streets with fragrant water. And as to the elephant, having satisfied his desire with the she-elephant in a display of playfulness worthy of the intoxicated Balarāma,18 he was once again brought into the king’s presence by the mahout, now overcome with fear and embarrassment.

[27] On seeing the mahout tremble with fear, the king’s eyes instantly grew red as a full-blown red lotus. An eclipse of wrath darkened the king’s moonlike face as he addressed him: “You wretched, worthless mahout, did someone put you up to mounting me on this vicious, untamed elephant? Did you not declare that at your command this splendid elephant would swallow even red-hot balls of iron? Let us now see if you were right.” [28] And from a fire that resembled the rising sun he raked out some iron balls and placed them before the elephant. [29] Then, in the midst of his trembling ministers, he said to the mahout: “Dismount and feed the elephant these blazing hot iron balls.” [30] Obediently the mahout held his cane in front of him and said to the elephant: “Take!” And it did not disobey. [31] At the sight of the elephant ready to take hold of an iron ball, the king said to Saṃyāta: “Stop it!” [32] The mahout restrained the elephant and the king spoke again: “Clearly one can curb his body, but not his capricious temperament.”

Thereupon a god of the Pure Abode,19 up in the sky, thought: “If this king were to hear about the blessed Buddhas’ vast array of virtues, he would without doubt vow to become a Buddha himself. Now might be the moment for me to enter the body of this mahout,” and in a trice he did so.

Then Saṃyāta said to the king: [33] “Even holy men, who make their bodies lean with austerity and who eat only fruit, are perturbed by love. If even they cannot control their thoughts, how could anyone else do so?” “Is there then anyone capable of controlling his thoughts?” asked the king, and Saṃyāta answered: [34] “Those lords of creation, past and future, called Buddhas—they indeed are capable of controlling their own and others’ thoughts.”

[35] The moment the king heard the mahout pronounce the word “Buddha” his good intentions seemed to multiply and his hair bristled. “Tell me then, my good man, what powers do the Buddhas possess.” Saṃyāta replied: [36] “The Tathāgatas20 have realized that state of serenity which they need to realize if they are to prevent those people being reborn, who stray blindly in the darkness of delusion.” Overjoyed, the king pressed him: “Please tell me, then, how does one reach the state of being a Buddha?” Saṃyāta answered: [37] “Men noted for generosity, morality, forbearance, valor, meditation, and understanding,21 so long as they make a real effort, attain to the state of a Buddha.”

Now that he had discovered the path that leads to becoming a Buddha, the king made the following vow: [38] “Possessed of many virtues—generosity and the rest of them—may I quickly become a Buddha, adept in what needs to be known in order to bring peace to people.”

[39] When the Bodhisattva22 made up his mind and pronounced this great vow, the wise rejoiced. But the god of love, entangled by the anxious thought that his powers might dissolve, trembled like a deer stricken by an arrow.

[40] The tree of resolve grew in the field of the king’s heart, to the delight of his people, and the time of its first flowering—Compassion—was drawing near. Eager for it to bear fruit, he watered it like a real tree, regularly every day, with the water of his generosity, which left no wish unfulfilled, so great was his wealth. [41] The king was like the moon: the moonlight of his generosity, unblemished in the early autumn23 of his vow, spread far and wide, giving joy to the night-lilies, his suppliants. Anxious to destroy the darkness of ignorance that covers the world and is so difficult to destroy, he graced the wide firmament of his royal duties. [42] Like bees hovering around an elephant lord, suppliants eager for largesse surrounded the king, who assiduously cared for his dependents like elephant cubs, and devotedly courted Fortune like a she-elephant. [43] That same king who had previously been as dangerous to approach as fire, his eyes asquint with fury, became like a lake for the refreshment of his people, once he had resolved to attain enlightenment. [44] When the darkness of selfishness departs, the mind of man slowly alters its nature. The very smoke that stings the eyes, once condensed, turns into a refreshing cloud. [45] Such was the king’s passion for giving that his underlings also began to give gifts. For only when the season is right will trees bear fruit in abundance. [46] When his subjects see that a king is devoted to goodness, then they too feel drawn toward it. When permeated by the light of the moon, the moonstone exudes pure water.24 [47] When in contact with someone who is good, what right-minded person does not become enamored of goodness? Even an ignorant beast of prey sheds its savage nature when it comes under the influence of a holy man.

[48] This is how the scion of the Śākyas, in a former existence, vowed to break the bonds of endless rebirth after hearing the mahout’s inspiring speech, whose words matched a Buddha’s goodness.

So then, exceptional men, on hearing how magnificent are a Buddha’s virtues, gird themselves with the armor of aspiration to become a Buddha and cut short the ills of endless rebirth for mankind. With this in mind a thoughtful person, striving to achieve perfect enlightenment, should first aim at the utmost generosity.

2

Jujube Island

[1] He who suffers at the sufferings of others, and is resolved to end them, endures sufferings of his own, as he strives for the good of living creatures.

According to tradition, the Bodhisattva was once a merchant called Supriya. He lived in Vārāṇasī, that ornament upon the face of the earth, the residence of King Brahmadatta, who, by his statesmanship a...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Preface
• Introduction
• PROLOGUE
• 1  KING PRABHĀSA. King Prabhāsa vows to become a Buddha
• 2  JUJUBE ISLAND. As the merchant Supriya, the Bodhisattva gains the jewel that grants all wishes
• 3  DHARMAKĀMA. As Dharmakāma, the Bodhisattva barters his life for a wise saying
• 4  THE HARE. As a hare, the Bodhisattva offers his life to feed another
• 5  KING CANDRAPRABHA. As King Candraprabha, the Bodhisattva gives his head to one who begs for it
• 6  RŪPYĀVATĪ. As Rūpyāvatī, the Bodhisattva cuts off her breasts to feed a starving servant-girl
• 7  THE MERCHANT’S SON. As a merchant’s son, the Bodhisattva feeds his body to animals
• 8  KING PADMAKA. As King Padmaka, the Bodhisattva turns into a carp to cure his subjects of disease
• 9  KING BRAHMADATTA. As King Brahmadatta, the Bodhisattva gives away his food ration in time of famine
• 11  THE DEER. As a deer, the Bodhisattva offers himself to the king’s butchers in place of a pregnant doe
• 12  THE PEACOCK. As a peacock, the Bodhisattva saves a queen from adultery
• 14  ŚYĀMA. As Śyāma, the Bodhisattva devotes himself to his blind parents
• 19  THE ELEPHANT. As an elephant, the Bodhisattva helps the hunter who is sent to kill him
• 20  PRINCE CANDRA. As Prince Candra, the Bodhisattva shows forbearance to the minister who wants him killed
• 22  THE ANTELOPE. As an antelope, the Bodhisattva sacrifices his life to save his herd from extinction
• 23  PRINCE KANAKAVARMAN. As Prince Kanakavarman, the Bodhisattva rescues his sister and her lover from the king’s wrath and conquers the goblins who have laid waste a foreign land
• 24  MŪLIKA. As Mūlika, a gatherer of medicinal herbs, the Bodhisattva nurses an ailing Pratyekabuddha
• 25  SUDHANA AND THE FAIRY PRINCESS. As Prince Sudhana, the Bodhisattva undergoes many trials to be reunited with his fairy wife
• 26  JĀJVALIN. As the ascetic Jājvalin, the Bodhisattva finds that a dove has nested on his head while he has been meditating. He waits until her chicks are fully fledged before moving
• 27  KEŚAVA. As Keśava, a doctor, the Bodhisattva cures a madwoman
• 29  NIRUPAMĀ. As Nirupamā, an actress, the Bodhisattva cures an actor of lust
• 32  THE LION. As a lion, the Bodhisattva saves the lives of two little monkeys entrusted to him
• 33  ŚAKRA. As Śakra, lord of the gods, the Bodhisattva resuscitates a dead elephant calf
• 34  ŚYENAKA. As Śyenaka, a king’s minister, the Bodhisattva renounces the world and reforms the king
• Notes
• References