Coming up on Friday, May 1 is Buddha Purnima and my thoughts turned to what was once the most important garden in the Gangetic plain at Sravasti in present-day Uttar Pradesh. It was called Jetavana, the Grove of Prince Jeta, meaning ‘Kumar’.
Sravasti was then among the six wealthiest cities in the North. A local merchant-philanthropist called Anatha-Pindika, meaning ‘help of the helpless’, was an admirer of the Buddha. He wanted to buy him a grove as a retreat from Prince Jeta of Sravasti.
Prince Jeta did not want to sell, though and when Anatha-Pindika kept on requesting him for it, he laughed, “Not even if you cover the entire ground of the grove with gold coins”.
Anatha-Pindika then took Prince Jeta to court, where the judges ruled that if Anatha-Pindika could meet the price mentioned, he had the right of purchase. Royalty was not above the law in Sravasti.
Such was Anatha-Pindika’s commitment that he collected money in cartloads and began to cover the ground with gold. This overwhelmed Prince Jeta, who went to meet the Buddha to see Anatha-Pindika’s inspiration for himself.
Like others, Prince Jeta was impressed by the Buddha’s personality and astounded that a prince, the heir to his father’s throne, could have walked away from position, power and wealth to seek a cure for suffering.
He donated a portion of the grove that remained uncovered and used Anatha-Pindika’s money to build a gateway and room there. Five hundred bankers stood with Anatha-Pindika at the inauguration. Both the establishment and the commoners backed the Buddha.
I have not yet managed to visit the excavated site of Jetavana. I hope I will someday see the remains of the Buddha’s own room and Anatha-Pindika’s mansion.
It’s said that a big pipal at the garden entrance, descended from the Bodhi tree at Bodh Gaya, was originally planted by Ananda, the Buddha’s faithful disciple. Ananda’s idea was that the pipal could be the local sangha’s focal point during the Buddha’s absence from Sravasti.
Accordingly, the Buddha is said to have blessed the tree and to have meditated all night under it, and I’ve heard that modern visitors to Jetavana like to do the same too to feel close to him.
The Buddha must have really liked Jetavana, for he often returned to it for the important chaturmaas (monsoon) retreat—19, 24 or 25 times, sources differ on that. He is said to have composed and preached 871 sutras there. Certainly, Jetavana remains a poignant example of commitment.
Similarly, the much-loved Mahajanaka Jataka offers enduring inspiration for making a determined effort against all odds.
The Bodhisattva, or Buddha in a previous birth, is figured here as the prince of Mithila. His father, the king, was killed by a younger brother in a palace coup. The pregnant queen fled disguised as a beggar, hiding some jewels in a packet of muddy rice.
Unused to the outside world, she trustingly asked passersby the way to the kingdom of Champa, the only faraway place she knew of. Her plight attracted the pity of Sakra (Indra), king of the Devas. He came by, disguised as a man in a fine cushioned cart and offered to take her to Champa, getting her there overnight by magic. The queen then went to bathe in the river. The enlightened being she carried made her glow and she caught the eye of a wise, kind priest who took her home as his adopted sister.
The Bodhisattva was born in safety and the queen named him Mahajanaka, meaning ‘happy outcome’ or ‘fruitful’, after his royal grandfather. Though a bright, beautiful boy, the Bodhisattva was often taunted as ‘the widow’s son’. At sixteen, he made his mother tell him who his father was, which gave him confidence.
He took a portion of the jewels his mother had saved and sailed to Suvarnabhumi, the golden land across the Eastern Sea, to make his fortune in trade before he went to Mithila to win back his kingdom.
More than 350 people from seven caravans were crowded on board the ship. When it hit a storm in the high seas, it began to flounder. The Bodhisattva filled his stomach with ghee and sugar to nourish him, hastily rubbed oil over his limbs for insulation from cold sea water, climbed to the top of the mast and jumped as far as he could. In this way, he escaped the sharks circling the sinking vessel.
He swam back resolutely towards India, pouring all his energy into the effort. He did not stop trying despite being alone in the ocean.
After seven long days, Manimekhala, the goddess of the Eastern Sea, who had been deputed to save the deserving, returned from a visit to friends and spotted the Bodhisattva. She floated above him and, to test his worthiness, asked, “Unable to see the shore, why are you nevertheless trying to reach it?”
“Goddess, I know that effort is a human duty. So, though I cannot see the shore from the middle of the ocean, I won’t stop trying,” he answered.
Wishing to test him more, she said, “The ocean stretches much farther than you imagine. Your effort is useless; you are bound to die.”
The prince said, “Dear goddess, how can effort ever be useless? He who never gives up will have a clear conscience. He won’t be blamed, either by society or by the gods. Plans may succeed or fail. But knowing you did your best while you could is the reward.”
Pleased, the goddess whisked him ashore and, soon after, he won Mithila back.
Renuka Narayanan | FAITHLINE | Senior journalist
(Views are personal)
(shebaba09@gmail.com)