Chapter 3 - Seeing the Four Great Omens

Visiting The Royal Garden

In this manner, Prince Siddhattha became the reigning King of Kapilavatthu at the age of sixteen. When he attained the age of twenty -nine, after having enjoyed the comfort and luxury of Universal Monarch, attended upon by a retinue of forty thousand princesses headed by the Chief Queen Yasodharā, one day, he became desirous, of visiting the Royal Garden. And so, he sent for the charioteer and ordered him: “Charioteer, have the chariot ready! I will visit the royal garden.” “Very well,” replied the charioteer and had the royal chariot, which was excellent and fit only for noble personages, adorned with ornaments and to it were harnessed four thoroughbred horses which was pure white like the full moon or kumuda lotus flower and as fast as the wind or Garuda, King of birds. When informed by the charioteer that the chariot was ready, the Prince rode in the chariot which was gorgeous like a celestial mansion and headed for the royal garden in a grand procession.

(1) The Omen of An Old Man

When the Prince had travelled some distance on his way to the royal garden, the devas conferred: “The time for Prince Siddhattha to become a Buddha is drawing near. Let us show him omens which will cause him to renounce the world and become a recluse.” They asked a deva to assume the appearance of an aged man, having grey hair, no teeth, stooping back, and trembling with a walking stick in his hand. This omen of an old man created by the deva could be seen by no one but the Prince and the charioteer.

On seeing the old man, the Prince asked the charioteer: “O charioteer, the hair of that man is not like that of others;his hair is totally white. His body is also not like that of others: the teeth are gone; there is little flesh (on his body); with a stooping back, he is trembling all over. By what name is he known?” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, he is called ‘an old man’.”

The Prince, who had never even heard before the word ‘old man’, much less seeing one, again asked the charioteer: “O charioteer, never before have I seen any one of such nature; whose hair is white, who has no teeth, who is emaciated and trembling with a stooping back. What is meant by an old man?” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, one who cannot live longer is known as an old man (an old man is one who has a short time left to live for).”

He then asked: “O charioteer, how is that? Am I also subject to old age? Am I also one who cannot overcome the nature of ageing?” When the charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, all of us, including you as well as I, are subject to old age; there is no one who can overcome the nature of ageing.” The Prince said: “O charioteer, if all human beings, each and every one of them, including me, cannot overcome the nature of old age, please go no more to the royal garden and enjoy the pleasures therein. Turn back now, from this place where the old man is seen and drive me back to the palace.” “Very, well, Your Majesty,” replied the charioteer who, instead of proceeding to the royal garden, turned the chariot around at the very place where the old man was seen and drove back to the golden palace.

The Prince’s Saṃvega

It is the nature of lions, when shot by an arrow, not to seek primarily to remove the arrow which is the effect, but to seek the hostile hunter who has shot the arrow and who is the prime cause of the flight of the arrow. Of the two phenomena of cause and effect, Buddhas also do not seek to eliminate the effect, which is like the arrow, but they seek and find out through intelligence the cause, which is like the enemy hunter who shoots the arrow. Therefore, the Buddhas are like the lions. The charioteer had merely explained the worldly nature of decay and old age (jarā) as far as he understood but the Prince, as befitting one who desires to become a Buddha, knew distinctly on reflection that birth (jāti) was the prime cause of the process of ageing (jarā). After returning to the golden palace, he reflected with penetrative saṃvega: “Oh, birth is detestable indeed. To whoever birth is evident, to him ageing is also evident.” Having reflected thus, he became cheerless and morose; he remained gloomy and dejected.

King Suddhodāna increased The Strength of The Guards

King Suddhodāna sent for the charioteer and asked him: “O charioteer, why did my son return in a hurry without proceeding to the garden?” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, your son has seen an old man so he came back in haste.” King Suddhodāna mused: “My son should become a ruler over this country. He must not renounce the world and become a recluse. The prediction of the court Brahmins that he would renounce the world and become a recluse must be proven wrong. O courtiers, why did you spoil my plans? Arrange quickly more palace attendants than before;then with more female attendants and dancing girls surrounding him, my son, while enjoying the five sensual pleasures, will no longer think of becoming a recluse.” So saying, he ordered to increase the number of guards in the surrounding places at every half yojana distance (two gāvutas) in all the four directions.

(When the Prince went out to the royal garden for enjoyment, he was accompanied by a contingent of troops half a yojana in extent; as the chariot reached a place where it forged ahead, leaving the forces behind in the procession, the great arahat Brahmās of the Suddhāvāsa abode, by dint of supernatural power, created the form of an old man in front of the chariot, to be visible only to the Prince and the charioteer. The arahat Brahmās of the Suddhāvāsa abode, considering: “The Bodhisatta Prince is now being mired in the slough of five sensual pleasures like the bull elephant getting swamped in a quagmire. We should let him regain the sense of mindfulness”, showed him the form of an old man. The other omens which would appear later should also be understood in the same manner. This account is from the Commentary on the Mahāpadāna Sutta.)

(2) The Omen of A Sick Man

Deceived and distracted by the five pleasures of the senses, increasingly provided and arranged by his father, King Suddhodāna, to deter him from renouncing the world and becoming a recluse, Prince Siddhattha spent his time enjoying the pleasures and luxuries of the palace life. His sense of religious urgency, generated by the detestation of the nature of birth and old age, became slightly diminished.

When four months had passed, after living such a life of luxury, the Prince again rode to the royal garden in the chariot drawn by the thoroughbred horses, as before. On the way, the Prince saw the form of a sick man, created a second time by devas. The sick man was in great pain being oppressed by disease, and could sit up or lie down only when helped by others. He was helplessly lying in bed covered with his own filth.

Thereupon, the Prince asked the charioteer: “O charioteer, the eyes of that man are not like the eyes of others; they are weak and unsteady. His voice is also unlike that of others; he keeps on crying with an unbearable shrill. His body is also not like the bodies of others.

It appears much worn out and exhausted. By what name is he known?” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, he is known by the name of ‘sick man’.”

The Prince, who had never before seen a sick man or even heard of the word ‘sick man’ asked the charioteer again: “O charioteer, I have never come across such a person, who sits up and lies down only with the help of others, who sleeps mired in his own filth and keeps on shrieking unbearably. What is meant by ‘a sick man?’ Explain the nature of this sick man to me.” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, a sick man is one who knows not whether he will or will not recover from the illness afflicting him now.”

He then asked: “O charioteer, how is that? Am I also subject to illness? Am I also one who cannot overcome the nature of ailment?” When the charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, all of us, including you as well as I, are subject to illness. There is no one who can overcome the nature of ailment.” The Prince said: “O charioteer, if all human beings, each and every one of them, including me, cannot overcome the nature of ailment, please go no more to the royal garden and enjoy the pleasures therein. Turn back now, from this place where the sick man is seen and drive me back to the palace.” “Very well, Your Majesty,” replied the charioteer who, instead of proceeding to the royal garden, turned the chariot around at the very place where the sick man was seen and drove it back to the golden palace.

The Prince’s Saṃvega

As has been said above, although the charioteer merely explained the painful, unbearable, oppressive worldly nature of illness (vyādhi), as far as he understood, the Prince, like the lion king and befitting one who desires to become a Buddha, knew distinctly on reflection that birth was the prime cause of illness, and of the above-mentioned old age. Back at the golden palace, he reflected with penetrative saṃvega: “Oh, birth is detestable indeed! To whoever birth has become evident, to him old age is bound to become evident; illness is bound to become evident.” Having reflected thus, he became cheerless and morose; he remained gloomy and dejected.

King Suddhodana increased The Strength of The Guards

King Suddhodāna sent for the charioteer and questioned him as before. When the charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, your son came back in a hurry because he has seen a sick man,” King Suddhodāna thought to himself as before and said in the aforesaid manner, and ordered further increase of guards to be placed every three gāvutas in the four directions. He also arranged to appoint more palace attendants and dancing girls.

(3) The Omen of A Dead Man

Deceived and distracted by the five pleasures of the senses, increasingly provided and arranged by his father, King Suddhodāna, to deter him from renouncing the world and becoming a recluse, Prince Siddhattha spent his time enjoying the pleasures and luxuries of the palace life, and his sense of religious urgency generated by the detestation of the nature of birth, old age and illness became slightly diminished.

When four month had passed after living such a life of luxury, the Prince again rode to the royal garden in the chariot drawn by the thoroughbred horses, as before. On the way, he saw the omen created and shown by the devas for the third time, namely, a crowd of people and a stretcher (bier) decorated with multi-coloured cloth. Thereupon, he asked the charioteer: “Charioteer, why are all these people gathering around? Why are they preparing a stretcher decorated with multi-coloured cloth?” The Charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, the people are gathering around and preparing the stretcher because someone has died.”

(He had never seen a bier before; he had seen only a stretcher. He asked, therefore: “Why are all these people gathering around and preparing a stretcher?”)

The Prince, who had never seen a dead person before or even heard of ‘the dead’, commanded the charioteer: “O charioteer, if they are assembled and engaged in making a stretcher, drive me to where the dead man lies.” The charioteer said: “Very well, Your Majesty”, and drove the chariot to where the dead man was lying. When the Prince saw the dead man, he asked: “O charioteer, of what nature is this dead man?” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, when a man dies, his relative will never see him again nor will he see his relatives any longer.”

Thereupon, the Prince asked further: “O charioteer, how is that? Am I also subject to death like that man? Am I also one who cannot overcome the nature of death? Will my father, mother and relatives not see me again one day? Will I also not see them again one day?” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, all of us, including you as well as I, are subject to death. There is no one who can overcome death. It is certain that one day your royal father, mother and relatives will not see you anymore and it is equally certain that one day you will no longer see them.”

(The royal mother in this context refers to Mahāpajāpati Gotamī, the aunt and stepmother.)

Thereupon, the Prince said: “O charioteer, if all human beings, each and every one of them, including me, cannot overcome the nature of dying, please go no more to the royal garden and enjoy the pleasures therein. Turn back now, from this place where the dead man is seen and drive me back to the royal palace.” “Very well, Your Majesty,” replied the charioteer who, instead of proceeding to the royal garden, turned the chariot around at the very place where the dead man was seen and drove it back to the golden palace.

The Prince’s Saṃvega

As has been said above, although the charioteer merely explained the worldly nature of death (maraṇa) as far as he understood, that when a man died, the relatives who were left behind would never see him again nor would the man who passed away see again the relatives he had left behind, the Prince, like the lion king and befitting one who desires to become a Buddha, knew distinctly on reflection that birth was the prime cause of the three phenomena: death, old age, and illness, which he had seen previously. After his return to the golden palace, he reflected with penetrative saṃvega: “Oh, birth is detestable indeed! To whoever birth has become evident, to him old age is bound to become evident, illness is bound to become evident, death is bound to become evident.” Having reflected thus, he became cheerless and morose; he remained gloomy and dejected.

King Suddhodana increased The Strength of The Guards

King Suddhodāna sent for the charioteer and questioned him as before. When the charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, the royal son came back in a hurry because he has seen somebody died,” King Suddhodāna thought to himself as before and said in the same manner and ordered further strengthening of guards to be placed at every yojana in the four directions; he also arranged to appoint more palace attendants and dancing girls.

(4) The Omen of A Recluse

Deceived and distracted by the five pleasures of the senses, increasingly provided and arranged by his father, King Suddhodāna, to deter him from renouncing the world and becoming a recluse, Prince Siddhattha spent his time enjoying the pleasures and luxuries of the palace and the sense of religious urgency generated by the detestation of the nature of birth, old age, illness and death became slightly diminished.

When four months had passed after living such a life of luxury, the Prince again rode to the royal garden in the chariot drawn by the thoroughbred horses as before. On the way, he saw the omen created by the devas for the fourth time, a man, who had embraced the life of a recluse, with a clean shaven head and beard shaved, wearing a bark-dyed robe. “O charioteer,” said the Prince, “This man’s head is not like the heads of others; he is with a clean shaven head and also has his beard shaved. His clothes are also not like those of others and are bark-dyed. By what name is he known?” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, he is known as a recluse.”

The Prince asked the charioteer again: “O charioteer, what is meant by a ‘recluse’? Explain the nature of a recluse to me.” The charioteer replied: “Your Majesty, a recluse is a person who, bearing in mind that it is good to practise the ten courses of wholesome actions (kusala-kamma-pathas), beginning with generosity (dāna), has gone forth from worldly life and put on the bark-dyed clothes. He is a man who, bearing in mind that it is good to practise the ten courses of wholesome actions which are in accord with righteousness, which are free from blemish, which are clean and pure, has gone forth from the worldly life and put on the bark-dyed clothes. He is one who, bearing in mind that it is good to refrain from ill-treating sentient beings, to work for the promotion of their welfare, has gone forth from the worldly life and put on the bark-dyed clothes.”

(Here, although the charioteer had no knowledge of a recluse or his virtues since it was a time prior to the appearance of a Buddha and His Teaching, he said through supernatural powers of the devas, that the man was a recluse, and explained the virtues of a recluse. This account is taken from the Buddhavaṃsa Commentary and Jinālaṅkāra Sub-commentary.)

(Those Bodhisattas with a much longer life span saw the four great omens, one after another, with the lapse of a hundred years between each other. In the case of our Bodhisatta, however, appearing during a far shorter span of life, intervening period between two subsequent omens was four months. According to the Dīgha Nikāya reciters, however, the Bodhisatta saw all the four great omens in one day.)

     ——Buddhavaṃsa Commentary——

Thereupon, the Prince said to the charioteer: “This man is truly admirable and noble for having gone forth from the world, bearing in mind that it is good to practise the ten courses of wholesome actions, which are in accord with righteousness, which are free from blemish, and which are clean and pure. That man is admirable and noble for having gone forth from the world bearing in mind that it is good to refrain from ill-treating sentient beings and to work for the promotion of their welfare. Just because he is admirable and noble, charioteer, drive the chariot to the place where that recluse is. Saying: “Very well, Your Majesty,” the charioteer drove the chariot to where the recluse was. On reaching there, the Prince asked the recluse, actually a supernormal form created by the devas (iddhi-rūpa): “O man, what is that you are doing? Your head is not like the heads of others; your clothes are also not like those of others.” When replied by the recluse: “Your Majesty, I am known as a recluse”, he asked him further: “What do you mean by a recluse?” The recluse, replied: “Your Majesty, I am one who has gone forth from the household life, having shaved the hair and beard and wearing the bark-dyed clothes, and bearing in mind that it is good to practise the ten courses of wholesome actions, beginning with generosity, which are also known by four special epithets: Dhamma for being righteous, Sama for being in accord with righteousness, Kusala for being blemish-free and Puñña for being pure and clean both as cause and effect; and also bearing in mind that it is good to refrain from ill-treating sentient beings and to work for the promotion of their welfare.” Thereupon, the Prince said in acknowledgement and approval: “You are indeed admirable and noble. You have gone forth from the household life, having shaved the hair and beard, and wearing the bark-dyed clothes, and bearing in mind that it is good to practise the ten courses of wholesome actions, which have the special epithets of Dhamma, Sama, Kusala and Puñña, and also bearing in mind that it is good to refrain from ill-treating sentient beings and to work for the promotion of their welfare.”

The Date of The Prince’s Renunciation

Before he renounced the world by going forth from the household life, the Prince made four visits to the royal gardens. On his visit to the royal garden riding on the chariot drawn by thoroughbred horses on the full moon of Āsāḷhā (June-July) in the year 96 Mahā Era, he saw, on the way, the first omen, that of an old man. On seeing this omen, he discarded the pride arising from exuberance of youthfulness (yobbana mona).

Then, when the Prince proceeded again to the royal garden as before on the full moon of Kattikā (October-November), he saw, on the way, the second omen, that of a sick man. On seeing this second omen, he discarded the pride arising from the exuberance of sound health (ārogya māna).

On proceeding again to the royal garden, as before, on the full moon of Phagguna (February-March), he saw, on the way, the third omen, that of a dead man. On seeing the third omen, the Prince discarded the pride arising from the exuberance of being alive (jīvita māna).

Then again, on the full moon of Āsāḷhā, in the year 97 Mahā Era, the Prince went out to the royal garden, as before. He saw, on the way, the omen of the recluse. The sight of this omen awakened in him a liking for the life of a recluse; and, making the resolution: “I shall become a recluse this very day,” he proceeded on his journey to reach the garden the same day.

(The Dhammasaṅganī of the Abhidhamma Piṭaka gives an exposition on saṃvega in the Nikkhepa Kaṇḍa as follows: The fear of jāti or the knowledge that jāti is a big fearsome danger is called jāti-bhaya;the fear of jarā or the knowledge that jarā is a big fearsome danger is called jarā-bhaya; the fear of vyādhi or the knowledge that vyādhi is a big fearsome danger is called vyādhi-bhaya; and the fear of maraṇa or the knowledge that maraṇa is a big fearsome danger is called maraṇa-bhaya. The group of these four kinds of knowledge is known as saṃvega.)

(Of the four kinds of great omens already described, the first three are known as saṃvega nimitta, omens which give rise to sense of religious urgency. Because, if birth takes place, there is unavoidable certainty of manifestation of ageing, illness and death. Because of the arising of birth, there is bound to be the arising of ageing, illness and death. There is no escape from ageing, illness and death for one who has been born. To one who looks upon these phenomenal dangers as fearsome, harsh and dreadful, they form the cause for the arising of terrible fright and alarm in them.)

(The last omen, that of a recluse, is the manifestation to encourage the practice of the Dhamma, as a way of escape from the said dangers of ageing, illness and death. Hence it is called Padhāna Nimitta, omen which gives rise to sense of meditational exertion.)

Sakka despatched Visukamma Deva to help The Prince dress up

The Prince spent the whole day in the royal garden, playing and enjoying its delight. After taking a bath, as the sun began to set, he remained sitting elegantly on the auspicious stone slab. At that moment, he felt inclined to get himself dressed. Sakka, becoming aware of his wish, dispatched Visukamma Deva, who, taking the guise of a barber in the service of the Prince, went to him and dressed him up with celestial attire and adornments. (Herein the glow of the Bodhisatta dressed in celestial attire should be visualized in anticipation.)

Just while the musicians were entertaining with five kinds of musical instruments and others were singing and dancing, and even while the Brahmins were extolling him in sweet words of praise: “May Your Majesty be crowned with success, free from all forms of danger and hostility;may you be blessed with glory and happiness,” the Prince, thus dressed in five celestial adornments, ascended the royal chariot, decorated with precious ornaments, to return to the royal palace.

The Birth of Rāhula

At that moment, King Suddhodāna, the royal father received the information that the Prince’s Chief Queen, Yasodharā, had given birth to a son. So he sent royal messengers to the Prince with the glad tidings: “Go convey this good news to my son.” When Prince Siddhattha heard the news that a son had been born, he remarked, as befitting one who kept in mind the sense of religious urgency (saṃvega): “The Asura Rahu^[1], who will seize and keep me captive, has been born; a great bondage has come into existence!”

When asked by King Suddhodāna: “What has my son said?” the messengers related to him the remarks made by the Bodhisatta Prince. Thereupon, King Suddhodāna announced the name and title of his grandson thus: “From now on, my grandson shall be known by the name of Prince Rāhula.”

Sakya Princess Kisā Gotamī’s Joyous Utterance of Peace

The Prince entered the royal capital of Kapilavatthu riding the chariot accompanied by a large retinue with majestic elegance at its height. As he was thus entering the royal city by the chariot, a Sakyan Princess by the name of Kisā Gotamī, who was possessed of charm and beauty, and who was not of lowly birth but of high noble lineage, on seeing the physique (rūpa-kāya) of the Prince from where she was, on the outer terrace of her mansion, and feeling delighted, uttered her feeling of joy as follow:

Nibbutā nūna sā mātā.
Nibbutā nūna so pitā.
Nibbutā nūna sā nārī.
Yassā'yaṃ īdiso patī.

Peaceful and happy will be the mind of the fortunate mother who has given birth to such a son possessing the splendour like the rising sun, an extraordinary son of noble birth, top in beauty, superb in grace, foremost in intelligence. Reflecting meticulously on the twin attributes of her son’s talent and beauty, her joyful satisfaction, day after day, will result in peace of mind.

Peaceful and happy will be the mind of the fortunate father who has given rise to such a son possessing the splendour like the rising sun, an extraordinary son of noble birth, top in beauty, superb in grace, foremost in intelligence. Reflecting meticulously on the twin attributes of his son’s talent and beauty, his joyful satisfaction, day after day, will result in peace of mind.

Peaceful and happy will be the mind of the fortunate woman who has become the wife of such a husband possessing the splendour like the rising sun, an extraordinary husband with virility, top in beauty, super in grace, foremost in intelligence. Reflecting meticulously on the twin attributes of her husband’s talent and beauty, her joyful satisfaction, day after day, will result in peace of mind.

(When oil is poured into a pot and when it is filled to the brim, oil overflows. In the same way, when someone feels intensely joyful and satisfied for some reason or the other, the said feeling of joy and satisfaction (pīti & somanassa) becomes, as if it were full in the stomach and spills out. The outburst of such feeling of joy and satisfaction expressed in the form of verse (gāthā) or in the form of prose (cuṇṇiya) is called udāna, expression of intense feeling of joy.)

Hearing the joyful utterance by the Sakyan Princess Kisā Gotamī, the Prince reflected: “This cousin sister of mine, Sakyan Princess Kisā Gotamī, has made the joyful utterance that the sight of such a personality (attabhāva) will give delight and serenity to the mother, the father and the wife. Now, what is that which when extinguished will bring true peace of mind?” It then occurred to the Prince, whose mind was already detached from defilements (kilesa), thus: “There is true peace only when the fire of passion (rāga) is extinguished; there is true peace only when the fire of hatred (dosa) is extinguished; there is true peace only when the fire of delusion (moha) is extinguished; there is true peace only when the heat of defilements, such as conceit (māna), wrong views (diṭṭhi), etc., subsides. This Princess Kisā Gotamī has spoken pleasant words about the element of peace. And, I am one who is going round in search of Nibbāna, the Ultimate Reality, which is the true extinction of all suffering. Even as of today, I should renounce the world by going forth and become a recluse in the forest, to seek Nibbāna, the Ultimate Reality.” With this thought of renunciation occurring continuously to him, the Prince, saying: “Let this pearl necklace be the teacher’s fee for the Princess Kisā Gotamī for reminding me to go in search of the element of extinction, nibbuti” and he took off the pearl necklace, which worth one lakh, from his neck and had it sent to Kisā Gotamī. The Princess was overjoyed with the thought: “This cousin of mine, Prince Siddhattha, has sent me the present because his mind is inclined towards me.”

The Prince went up the residential palace, which was dignified, elegant, marvellous for delightful living, and reclined on the royal couch. The moment he reclined thus, all the female palace attendants and dancing girls who possessed the celestial beauty of form and complexion and who were adept in the art of singing, dancing and making music, gathered round him with five kinds of musical instruments in their hands and started playing them, dancing and singing to let him enjoy the five kinds of sensual pleasure. But being disgusted with and wearied of activities which would kindle the fire of defilements, he found no pleasure in such entertainments of singing, dancing and music and fell asleep in a moment.

As the Prince had fallen asleep instantly, the female palace attendants and dancing girls thought to themselves thus: “We dance, sing and play music for the Prince but he has fallen asleep. Why should we now exhaust ourselves?” and they too fell asleep with their musical instruments pressed underneath. The fragrant oil lamps kept alight inside the golden palace continued to illuminate brilliantly.

Renunciation of The Prince

On waking up, the Prince sat cross-legged on the couch and looked around. He saw the dancing girls asleep, some with their musical instruments pressed underneath and with saliva flowing out from their mouths, soiling their cheeks and bodies, some grinding their teeth, some snoring, some jabbering, some with their mouths open, some with no clothes on but with bodies bare, some with their hair loose and in confusion, they looked like loathsome dead bodies in a cemetery.

Seeing the said detestable changes and transformations in the dancing girls, the Prince became all the more detached from objects of sensual pleasures. This is how the detachment took place:

(1) Appassādā-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are less of enjoyment and more of suffering and grief. The faults and defects of the five objects of sensual pleasures are, in fact, quite numerous!

(2) Aṭṭhikankalūpamā-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are like a piece of fleshless bone. When a lean and hungry dog finds a piece of bone completely stripped bare of any flesh, with saliva trickling down, it bites the bone but it cannot get satisfied. Because of the rank smell of the bone, the dog cannot leave it and go elsewhere but continues on biting the bone from the top to the bottom, from the bottom to the top and again in the middle, with the ardent expectation of relishing the taste and getting satisfied. This dog may meet with its death without finding any taste in the bone. In the same way, men and women, all sentient beings, cling to the bonelike material objects of sensual pleasures, both animate and inanimate, such as gold, silver, land and estates, wives and children, etc., just like the lean hungry dog. Although they enjoy having these objects for a long time with much longing and craving, they never become satisfied. They remain in great hope of finding relish and satisfaction. Being attracted and overwhelmed by the sense desires which aroused in them by the objects of sensual pleasures, sentient beings cannot abandon these objects. Without any thought of renouncing the world to free themselves from the bonds of the pleasures of the senses, they fondly keep on clinging to them, eventually to meet death at the feet of their wives and children (while fulfilling their obligations of the household life). Therefore, the five material objects of sensual pleasures are very much like piece of fleshless bone as they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(3) Maṃsapesūpamā-kāmā:

The five sensual pleasures are indeed like a chunk of meat. Take, for example, an eagle that flies away after snatching a chunk of meat, it is chased by a number of other birds which gather round and attack it. As long as the eagle holds the meat, it is subject to relentless attack and has to endure much suffering. But, as soon as he discards the piece of meat, he is relieved of such woe. Another eagle, which, in turn, picks up this piece of meat and flies away, is also being chased, surrounded and attacked by other birds. Thus each eagle which becomes attached to the meat, which snatches it and flies away, faces the same predicament. In a similar manner, he who clings to the objects of sensual pleasures, which are like the piece of meat, as ‘mine’, ‘my own’, is subject to constant dangers of robbery, looting, and cheating, by the five enemies, namely, water, fire, ruler, thief, and unloved ones who will wreak havoc and misery at every opportunity. If, on encountering these enemies, he puts up a defence against them to the best of his ability, he is likely to loss his life under such unfavourable circumstances. As long as he keeps on clinging to these objects of sensual pleasures, he remains surrounded by all kinds of dangers, and lives a life of restriction. Only through discarding them all will he get the opportunity to live in peace. Therefore, the five material objects of sensual pleasures are very much like a chunk of meat; they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(4) Tiṇukkūpamā-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are indeed like a firebrand of grass;when a large bundle of grass is lighted and carried against the wind, it would start burning from the tip continuously downwards, and unless it is thrown away, it would burn parts of the carrier’s limbs such as hands and legs, etc. He would perhaps meet death or suffer intense pain bordering on death. In the same manner, the material objects of sensual pleasure, when grasped and taken hold of with the hands of craving as ‘my own’, ‘mine’, ‘my property’, would burn all those, who rejoice in their possessions, with the fires of anxieties for their safekeeping. In spite of endearing care and attention, if these material objects of sensual pleasures, through natural course of things, become despoiled and wasted, they would develop to a big fire of suffering through anxiety and worry. At times, these raging fires of material objects of sensual pleasures would develop into fires of death (maraṇa). Therefore, to take possession of these material objects, both animate and inanimate, such as wives and children, land and estates, etc., is just like taking possession of the blazing flames and fires. The five material objects of sensual pleasures are very much like the burning grass bundles, they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(5) Aṅgārakasūpama-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are indeed like a pit of embers. Being covered by ashes with no visible smoke or flame, the pit of acacia wood embers looks deceptive as if it were not fire. Anyone who descends into the pit, which has no recognizable signs of fire, would get burnt more severely than being scorched by a blazing flame. He may even lose his life. In a similar manner, the five material objects of sensual pleasures appear superficially to be pleasant, as manifested through sight, sound, smell, taste and touch, and do not seem to be burning hot. By craving for and taking into possession of these objects, when one descends into the ember pit of sensual pleasures, one suffers great pain and misery. Burning with visible blazing flames is apparent to all, but burning of various tubers, such as arum, yam, etc., which are kept buried in a heap of embers, is not apparent though the intensity of heat there is much greater than that of a blazing fire. In the same way, those, who descend into and sunk into the ember-pit of sensual pleasures, are burnt, not with flames visible to all, but with an intense internal heat. Even as the various tubers, such as arum, yam, etc., kept buried in the ember-pit get burnt, they are burnt internally, suffering great anguish unknown to others, by latent heat generated by various thoughts of sensual pleasures, by various difficulties encountered in earning their livelihood, and by all kinds of worry involved in maintaining and feeding their families.

This sensual world which is replete with material objects of sensual pleasure is like a large pit of embers; the bigger the number of material objects of sensual pleasures, the greater the mass of burning embers in the pit. The sentient beings of sensual world are like the tubers, such as arum, yam, etc., kept buried inside the burning embers. Therefore, the five objects of sensual pleasures are very much like the pit of embers; they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(6) Supinakūpamā-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are indeed like a dream. A person, while in slumber, may dream of himself being a wealthy man, a provincial governor (padesa-rājā) or an emperor (eka-rājā), enjoying to his heart’s content whatever pleasure of the sense he wishes, thus leading a life of luxury. In his dream, everything seems so real. It appears as if there would be no end of this luxurious living but when he suddenly wakes up before completion of enjoying the luxurious pleasures in the dream, he finds them untraceable, intangible, and of no avail. In the same way, men and devas of the sensual world are indulging themselves in their respective mundane and celestial pleasures, being led on by craving (taṇhā), and being deluded by craving (taṇhā), pride (māna) and wrong belief (diṭṭhi) into thinking that their life of pleasure is real, permanent and enduring. They are just dreaming. During the infinitesimally short duration of the present life time, while in the course of enjoying the dream-like sensual pleasures, one has to pass into another existence, leaving behind all these sensual pleasures one is so attached to. Then, just as all those pleasurable things, which one encounters in one’s dream, vanish without any trace the moment one wakes up, so also all the material objects of sensual pleasures which one has clung to as “my own”, “mine”, “my property”, during the short duration of the present life, all of them without exception, turn out to be things which have nothing to do with oneself. Therefore, the five objects of sensual pleasures are very much like things in a dream, they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(7) Yācitakūpamā-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are indeed like articles taken for use on temporary loan. For example, there are those people, who having no possession of their own, have to hire jewellery, such as precious stones, gold and silver, to wear on festive occasions. While they enjoy wearing them as their own with all happiness just before they return them or before they are asked by the owners to return; they feel sad and dejected when they have none of the borrowed treasures in their hands after returning them to the owners. In a similar manner, when their past meritorious deeds produce beneficial results in the way of enjoyment of sensual pleasures, they are liable to be deluded into thinking that such beneficence would last forever. When these objects are lost or destroyed as a result of one’s past evil deeds, or when one passes away, they turn out to be things of no relevant to oneself. Taking his course in life according to circumstances, he, who has thought of himself to be the real possessor of such sensual pleasures, is left with nothing in hand. Therefore, the five objects of sensual pleasures are very much like articles taken on loan for temporary use, they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(8) Rukkhaphalūpamā-kāmā:

The five sensual pleasures are indeed like a tree laden with fruit. For example, there is a big tree bearing fruit in a big grove near a village. A certain man, roaming about in the grove in search of some fruit to eat, sees the tree and reasons: “This tree is full of tasty fruit but there is not a single fruit which has fallen on the ground. I’m skilful in climbing trees, so I will climb the tree and eat the fruit to my heart’s content. I will also pluck them until the fold of my waist-cloth is full.” With such a thought, the man climbs the tree, and eats the fruit until he is full; he also plucks enough fruit to fill the fold of his waist-cloth. In the meantime, a second man with a knife in hand enters the grove also in search of fruit to eat. He sees the same tree laden with fruit and thinks: “This tree is full of sweet-tasting fruit. There is no fruit on the ground. I am not skilful in climbing trees. Therefore, I will cut and fell the tree from the base and eat the fruit till I am satisfied. I will also collect them until the fold of my waist cloth is full.” Then the man cuts down the tree. The first man already up in the tree is unable to descend quickly before it is felled by the second man; he will either be maimed or may even lose his life.

Similarly, a wealthy man, enjoying fully the pleasures of the senses, could be approached by another person, who would beat him up and rob him of his material objects of sensual pleasures unless he disposed them off speedily. He would be severely beaten and injured or even meet with death on account of them. If he passed away with obsession or strong attachment to sensual pleasures, he would meet with all kinds of suffering such as rebirth in the realm of woes (apāya). Therefore, the five objects of sensual pleasures are very much like the tree fully laden with fruit, they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(Or) The five objects of sensual pleasures are like a ripe poison fruit. For example, there is a poison fruit called kiṃpukka or kiṃphala, which resembles the most relishing ripe mango fruit, pleasing to the eye with alluring aroma and taste; but it causes those eating it to suffer untold pain even leading to death. Those who happen to eat this fruit just because of its colour, smell and taste writhe with pain, with their intestines breaking up and ultimately die in agony like one who has taken arsenic mixed with lime juice. In similar manner, the five objects of sensual pleasures are deceptive in outward appearance, deluding those without the eye of wisdom into thinking that they are indeed various delightful, pleasurable materials. Allured by their attractive outward appearance, those who take delight and indulge in them become suffocated with the unwholesome (akusala) poisons of greed, anger and bewilderment and after going through all kinds of writhing pains and suffering through worry, anxiety, etc., they helplessly meet with death. Even after death, on account of the poison of sensual pleasures, they do not attain happy existence, instead they encounter further miseries and difficulties such as rebirth in the state of woe (apāya). Therefore, the five objects of sensual pleasures are very much like a ripe poison fruit, they are more of pain and suffering. Therefore, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(9) Asisūnūpamā-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are indeed like a chopping block on which chopping was done with knives and axes. For example, it is on the chopping block that criminals and hunted animals, such as deer, etc., are slaughtered;the meat of such game is also cut up and minced on the chopping block. The chopping block is where sentient beings are killed and minced. In a similar manner, the five objects of sensual pleasures destroy all beings who take delight and indulge in them by cutting up and mincing them with the knife and axe of (their own) craving for sensual pleasures. All those, who happen to place their necks on the chopping block of sensual pleasures (those who crave) cannot develop the elements of renunciation (nekkhamma dhātu) to escape to the open space and broad highway of Concentration Meditation and Insight Meditation, are destroyed and cut up into pieces with the knife and axe of craving on that very chopping block of sensual pleasures. They come to the end of their lives in a terrible manner. Therefore, the five objects of sensual pleasures are very much like the chopping block on which chopping or mincing of meat is carried out, they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(10) Sattisūlupamā-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are indeed like the sharp edge of a sword or a spear. For example, the exceedingly sharp edge of a sword or a spear cuts deep and pierces anything that comes into contact with it; they are only weapons for killing, destroying enemies, etc. So also, the five objects of sensual pleasures, possessing the quality of sharpness, cut deep and pierce anyone coming into contact or entangled with them. For example, anyone pierced by the edge of the sword or the spear of a visible object (rūpārammaṇa) is like the fish caught by a baited hook in its intestines; he cannot extricate himself from it all at once, but follows its dictates with passive obedience. Being thus inflicted by the sharp edge of the sword or the spear of a visible object, he becomes forgetful and can no longer pay attention to the practice of sīla, samādhi and paññā which he has formerly cultivated. Thus he ends up in ruin. (This example applies equally to the objects of hearing, saddārammaṇa, etc.) Thus, the five objects of sensual pleasures, resembling the sharp edges of five swords or spears, are only weapons for killing and destroying beings. All beings, who have not yet discarded craving for sensual pleasures, have to remain like prisoners amidst the swords or spears of the five sensual objects aiming straight at them in whichever existence they might find themselves. The said five objects of sensual pleasures would automatically get themselves embedded in all beings coming into contact with them, without sparing anyone. Therefore, the five objects of sensual pleasures are very much like the sharp edge of a sword or a spear, they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(11) Sappasirūpanā-kāmā:

The five objects of sensual pleasures are indeed like the head of a poisonous snake. The head of a poisonous snake, being filled with potent, deadly venom, is loathsome and frightful. Just as the head of a poisonous snake would cause untold harm to all who happen to come into contact with it, so also the five objects of sensual pleasures are loathsome and frightful since they are filled with a kind of potent poison which could generate the bad blood of kilesa (mental defilements), in those who happen to come into contact with them or who are bitten by them. And, just as the head of a poisonous snake would bring only harm but no benefit to the world, so the five objects of sensual pleasures would bring all kinds of frightful danger to the people of the world. Just as one who happens to come into contact with or step on the head of a poisonous snake, so one, who happens to come into contact with or step on the head of the poisonous snake of five objects of sensual pleasures, would be exposed to a great danger. Therefore, the five objects of sensual pleasures are very much like the head of a poisonous snake, they are more of pain and suffering. Indeed, the desires for sensual pleasures are utterly undependable and full of faults and defects!

(The above account of how detachment from sensual pleasures takes place (kāmādīnavakathā) is based on the Potaliya Sutta of the Majjhimapaṇṇāsa Pāli.)

Indeed, great, frightful danger is the real name of the five sensual pleasures! Suffering is the real name of the five sensual pleasures! Disease is the real name of the five sensual pleasures! Big abscess is the real name of the five sensual pleasures! Tight fastening is the real name of the five sensual pleasures! Inescapable bog is the real name of the five sensual pleasures.——Chakka Nipāta, Aṅguttara Pāli——

“This royal palace of pomp and grandeur comparable to Vejayanta Palace, the residence of Sakka, is indeed like the cemetery where the dead are disposed of. The three planes of existences, namely, kāma, rūpa and arūpa, are indeed like a big house burning in deep red, blazing flames. These sentient beings, devas, humans and Brahmās, are bound to take conception, to grow old, to become sick and then to die;after death, they have to take conception again; then, to grow old, to become sick and to die again. Subjected to the repeated processes of taking conception, growing old, becoming sick and dying, they undergo great suffering. And yet, they do not know the way to escape from birth, ageing, sickness and death. When will they know it?”

Thus contemplating and realising the frightfulness of birth, old age, sickness and death, and the fact that the objects of and desire for sensual pleasures as well as the three realms of existences of kāma, rūpa and arūpa are less of happiness and pleasure but more of pain, suffering and defects, he became entirely divested of delight in and attachment for the five objects of sensual pleasure, the Prince then expressed his intense feeling by uttering:

Upaddutaṃ vata bho,
“Oh, how distressing it is!”

Upassatthaṃ vata bho,
“Oh, how oppressing it is!”

He became exceedingly inclined to renounce the world and become a recluse.

Thinking to himself: “It is time for me, even today, to go forth from the household life”, the Prince rose from the royal couch, approached the door and asked: “Who is here?” The Minister Channa, who was sleeping with his head resting on the threshold of the door, replied: “Your Majesty, I am Channa.” The Prince commanded him, saying: “I wish to renounce the world today. Without letting anyone know, go now quickly and saddle a thoroughbred Sindhi horse which possesses great speed.” The Minister Channa gave his assent, saying: “Very well, Your Majesty,” and carrying with him the necessary equipments for saddling the horse, he went to the royal stable. In the brilliant illumination of the fragrant oil lamps, he saw the royal steed Kaṇḍaka, a victor of all foes, standing on the delightful ground of the stable under a canopy decked with jasmine flowers. Deciding: “I should prepare this auspicious steed Kaṇḍaka for the Prince to go forth tonight,” and he proceeded to saddle Kaṇḍaka with complete equipments.

While he was being saddled thus, Kaṇḍaka came to realise: “I am being saddled rather tightly this time, on previous occasions, when going out to the royal garden, saddling was done differently. No doubt, the Prince is going forth tonight riding on me to become a recluse.” Being greatly overjoyed, he neighed vehemently. The neighing of Kaṇḍaka in his fit of great delight could have reverberated throughout the whole of Kapilavatthu but devas let nobody hear the neighing sound.

While his connatal mate, Minister Channa, was thus gone to prepare and fetch the royal steed Kaṇḍaka, the Prince with intent "to have a look at the royal baby before renunciation" went to the royal chamber of Rāhula’s mother, Queen Yasodharā, and opened the door of the chamber. At that time, the chamber was brilliantly lit with scented oil lamps; and Rāhula’s mother, Queen Yasodharā, was lying asleep on the bed strewn with jasmine flowers, with her hand resting on the head of her baby.

The Prince stood at the door sill and, while looking, reflected: “If I remove the Queen’s hand and nestle my son in my arms, I will surely awaken the Queen. If the Queen wakes up, that will endanger my plan of renunciation which I am about to execute. So be it for now, I will not see him yet. Only after I have attained Buddhahood, will I come back and see my son.” Having contemplated thus, he descended from the royal palace and approached the royal steed to whom he addressed:

“O Kaṇḍaka, my connatal, assist me for this one night. After attaining Buddhahood through your help, I will rescue the world of sentient beings including devas, from the stream of saṃsāra and convey them to the high ground of Nibbāna.” Then the Prince jumped on to the back of the royal steed Kaṇḍaka.

Kaṇḍaka measured eighteen cubits from the neck and was of proportionate height. He possessed great power and speed as well. His whole body was snowy white; his physical appearance is as delightful and graceful as a newly polished conch. Sitting on the middle of Kaṇḍaka’s back, with his connatal mate Minister Channa clutching the tail of the horse, the Bodhisatta rode out of the palace in the middle watch of the night on Monday, the fullmoon day of Āsāḷhā in the year 97, Mahā Era, and arrived at the main gate of the royal city. (While the Bodhisatta was thus departing from the palace by riding the royal steed Kaṇḍaka, devas placed their hands under his hoofs at every trot so that the sound of the hoofs could not be heard by anyone.)

The Prince, Minister Channa, and The Royal Horse Kandaka, each had Their Own Plan

It was the time when the royal father, King Suddhodāna, had taken precautions to prevent the Prince from going forth by strengthening the both sides of the main gate of the royal city so that each side could be opened only with the strength of one thousand troops. He considered: “If it is thus arranged, my son will not be able to go out unnoticed at any time by opening the main gate of the city.”

The Prince was endowed with great strength; he had the strength of one thousand crores of Kāḷāvaka elephants; he had the strength equivalent of one thousand crores of middlesized male persons (majjhima-purisa). Accordingly, he thought to himself: “If the main gate will not open, I will escape today by making use of my own strength. Remaining seated on the back of the royal steed Kaṇḍaka, I will clasp Minister Channa who accompanies me by holding the horse’s tail and the royal horse Kaṇḍaka in between my two thighs and jump over the 18-cubit high city wall.”

Minister Channa also thought to himself: “If the main gate of the city will not open, I will keep my Lord’s son seated on my shoulder, clasp the Kaṇḍaka horse under my right armpit, and hugging him with my right hand, I will jump over the 18-cubit high wall of Kapilavatthu City and escape.”

The royal horse Kaṇḍaka also thought to himself: “If the main gate of the royal city will not open, I will keep my royal son seated on my back as he is and along with the connatal mate Minister Channa holding on to my tail, I will jump over the 18-cubit high wall of Kapilavatthu City and escape.”

The Physical Strength of The Prince

[One elephant of Kāḷāvaka pedigree has the combined strength of 10 majjhimapurisa (men of medium strength);
one Gaṅgeyya elephant has the combined strength of 10 Kāḷāvaka elephants (or 100 majjhima-purisas);
one Paṇḍara elephant has the combined strength of 10 Gaṅgeyya elephants (or 1000 majjhimapurisas);
one Tamba elephant has the combined strength of 10 Paṇḍara elephants (or 10,000 majjhima-purisas);
one Piṅgala elephant has the combined strength of 10 Tamha elephants (or 100,000 majjhima-purisas);
one Gandha elephant has the combined strength of 10 Piṅgala elephants (or 1,000,000 majjhima-purisas);
one Maṅgala elephant has the combined strength of 10 Gandha elephants (or 10,000,000 majjhima-purisas);
one Hema elephant has the combined strength of 10 Maṅgala elephants (or 100,000,000 majjhima-purisas);
one Uposatha elephant has the combined strength of 10 Hema elephants (or 1,000,000,000 majjhima-purisas);
one Chaddanta elephant has the combined strength of 10 Uposatha elephants (or 10,000,000,000 majjhima-purisas).
The Bodhisatta has the combined strength of 10 Chaddanta elephants (or 100,000,000,000 majjhima-purisas).]

     ——Aṅguttara Commentary——

The Deterrence by Vasavattī Māra

In this manner, the three of them were having similar intentions. Even if the main gate of the city would not open, any one of them would certainly act in fulfilment of his plan. Nevertheless, by virtue of the accumulated merits and glory of the Prince, the devas guarding the gates of the royal city were very glad to keep the main gate readily open for him to go out. Just as he rode out from the main gate of the royal city on the back of Kaṇḍaka accompanied by his connatal mate Minister Channa, Vasavattī Māra, who did not like and had always opposed and obstructed the emancipation of sentient beings from the round of rebirths, went to the human world from his abode of Paranimmitavasavattī Deva world in a moment, so soon as a strong man would stretch out his folded arm or fold his out-stretched arm, and appeared in front of the Prince. His purpose was to deter him from renouncing the world by tricking him into believing that the deterrence was for his own good. Remaining in the sky, he uttered:

Mā nikkhama mahāvira ito te sattame dine.
Dibbaṃ tu cakkaratanaṃ addhā pātu bhavissati,
     ——Buddhavaṃsa Commentary——

“O very energetic Bodhisatta Prince, do not just go forth and become a recluse. On the seventh day from today, the celestial Wheel Treasure for you will certainly make its appearance.”

He discouraged the Prince also by telling him: “You will become the Universal Monarch, ruling over the four Great Continents surrounded by two thousand small islands. Do turn back, Your Majesty.” Thereupon, the Prince asked: “Who are you, speaking to me and discouraging me now?” Māra Deva replied: “Your Highness, I am Vasavattī Māra.” Then the Prince made this bold reply:

Jānāmahaṃ mahārāja, mayhaṃ cakkassa sambhavaṃ.
Anatthiko'ham rajjena, gaccha tvaṃ Māra mā idha.

“O powerful Māra, I already know even before you that the divine Wheel Treasure will certainly arise for me. As for myself, I do not have the least desire to become a Universal Monarch, ruling over the four Continents. Go ye away now, O Māra, from here; do not stand in my way.”

Sakalaṃ dasasahassam pi, lokadhātum'ahaṃ pana
Unnādetvā bhavissāmi, Buddho 1oke vināyako.

“As for me, I will strive to become a Buddha to help and convey all sentient beings, who are ready to listen to the Dhamma (veneyya), to the victorious land of Nibbāna, making the ten thousand world revolve and resound like the potter’s wheel.”

Thereupon, Mara threatened the Prince with these words: “O friend Prince Siddhattha, keep your words constantly in mind. From this time on, I will make you know well what I am, whenever your mind is filled with thoughts of sensual desires (kāma-vitakka), thoughts of malice (vyāpāda-vitakka), or thoughts of cruelty (vihiṃsā-vitakka).” And, thence forward, he was constantly on the lookout for the occasion when mental defilements (kilesa) would perchance arise in the mental continuum of the Prince, following him closely like a shadow for a total period of seven years. (He followed closely behind the Prince for a total period of seven years with intent to kill him outright at the very place where mind defilements would perchance arise in the mind continuum of the Prince.)

The Ceremonious Escort by Devas and Brahmās to The Bank of the River Anomā

At the age of twenty nine years, when he was about to acquire the glory and powers of a Universal Monarch, he forewent and spurned them as if they were spittle. At midnight, on the full moon day of Āsāḷhā when the constellation Āsāḷhā and the moon were in conjunction, in the year 97 Mahā Era, he left the royal palace which was comparable to the magnificent palace of the Universal Monarch. But while he was thus leaving, the desire to turn round and take a view of the royal city of Kapilavatthu arose in his mind.

Immediately after that thought had arisen in the mind of the Prince, the very locality where the thought occurred revolved round like a potter’s wheel as if the earth was addressing him: “O noble person Bodhisatta, your deeds of merit were such that you need not turn round to look at anything, the object you want to see will present itself in front of you.” The Prince thus viewed the royal city of Kapilavatthu from where he was, without having to turn around. The site where the royal horse Kaṇḍaka halted was marked for the erection of a stupa to be named Kaṇḍaka Nivattana. He then proceeded on his journey in a majestic manner on the back of the royal horse Kaṇḍaka. Along the route taken by the Prince, all the devas and Brahmās marched along in front and rear, and on the left and right, some holding sixty thousand lighted torches (six hundred lighted torches according to the Buddhavaṃsa Commentary); others came along honouring him with festoons of fragrant flowers, sandalwood powder, yak-tail fly-flaps, banners and streamers. They came along singing celestial songs and playing all kinds of celestial musical instruments.

The Prince, who, as described above, had gone forth in such magnificence, passed through the three kingdoms of Sākiya, Koliya and Malla in one single night, covering a distance of thirty yojanas, eventually arriving on the bank of the River Anomā.

(Special Note: The royal horse, Kaṇḍaka, possessed the power of speed which enabled him to run around the Cakkavāḷa mountain in the early morning and arrived back in time for the morning meal, which was readily prepared for him. Nevertheless, it should be especially noted that at that time the garlands of scented flowers strewn by the devas and Brahmās, nāgas and garuḷas, etc., from the sky were covering the ground up to the height of the horse’s navel and so he had trudged along, struggling and struggling through the mass of garlands of flowers as though making his way through marshy ground and thus was able to cover only thirty yojanas in one whole night.)

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

‘Rahu’ is the name of the Asura (Demon of Fallen Deity) who is supposed to be responsible for the eclipse of the moon by taking it in his mouth.