Story of Two Brothers: Mahākāla and Cūlakāla

Having performed acts of merit such as alms-giving for a long period of a hundred thousand years, the wealthy clansman, the future Koṇḍañña, was reborn in a celestial abode on his death. While he was repeatedly being reborn either in the deva-world or human world, ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and nine aeons elapsed. (That is to say he enjoyed only divine or human lives, knowing no rebirth in any woeful states, for 99909 aeons.) After living through such a long duration, ninety-one aeons, when counted backwards from this Bhadda aeon, the future Koṇḍañña, was born in the family of a householder and named Mahākāla, in a village near the gate of the royal city Bandhumatī. His younger brother was known as Cūlakāla.

At that time, the future Buddha Vipassī expired from Tusitā celestial abode and took conception in the womb of Bandhumatī, the Chief Queen of King Bandhuma. (As has been described in the Chapter IX). He duly became an Omniscient Buddha. As He was requested by Mahā Brahmā to preach, He pondered as to whom He should preach first. He then saw His own younger brother Prince Khaṇḍa and the Purohita’s son, the young Tissa. “These two,” He decided, “are capable of penetrating the Four Truths first.” He decided thus: “I will preach to them. I will also do favour to my royal father.” He then took an aerial journey, by His psychic power, from the Mahābodhi tree and descended at the Deer Park called Khemā. He sent for Prince Khaṇḍa and Tissa and taught them a sermon, at the end of which, both of them were established, together with eighty-four thousand sentient beings, in arahatship.

The eighty-four thousand clansmen, who went forth together with the future Buddha Vipassī, heard of the event and they went to Him to listen His Dhamma and were duly established in arahatship too. Buddha Vipassī appointed Khaṇḍa Thera and Tissa Thera, His Chief Disciples and placed them on His right and left hand side respectively.

On receiving the news, King Bandhuma became desirous of paying homage to his son, Buddha Vipassī, went to the Park, listened to the sermon and took the Three Refuges. He also invited the Buddha for the next day’s meal and departed after paying respect to the Buddha. On arrival at his palace, an idea arose while sitting in his grand pavilion: “My older son has renounced the word and has become Buddha. My second son has become Chief Disciple on the Buddha’s right-hand side. The Purohita’s son, the young Tissa, has become Chief Disciple on the left. The rest of the eighty-four thousand monks used to surround and attend upon my son while they were all lay men. Therefore, the Sangha, headed by my son, was under my charge before and so should they be now too. I, alone, will be responsible for the provision of them with the four requisites. I will give others no chance to do so.” Thinking thus, the King had the walls of cutch-wood built on either side of the route, from the gate of the monastery to the palace and had them covered with canvas. He had festoons hung which were as thick as the trunk of a toddy palm and decorated with gold stars;he also had canopies put up. As for the ground, he had it covered with exquisite spreads. On both sides of the route within the walls, he had pots filled with water and placed near the flowering bushes and had perfumes placed among flowers and flowers among perfumes. Then he sent the Buddha with a message that it was now time for the meal. In the company of His monks, Buddha Vipassī came to the palace along the route fully covered and partook His meal and went back to the monastery. Nobody else had a chance just to see the Buddha. How could one have an opportunity to offer food and to honour Him? Indeed nobody else could.

Then there took place a discussion among the citizens:

“It has now been seven years and seven months since the arising of the Buddha in the world. But we have had so far no opportunity just to see the Buddha, what to speak of offering food, honouring Him and listening to His sermon. Absolutely, we have no such privileges at all. The King personally attended to the Buddha adoringly with the notion that ‘The Buddha is only my Buddha, the Dhamma is only my Dhamma and the Sangha is only my Sangha.’ The arising of the Buddha is for the welfare of the world of sentient beings, together with devas and Brahmas, but not only for the King’s welfare. Indeed, it is not that the hell-fire is hot only to the King and is like a blue lotus to others. Were it well, therefore, if the King gave us the Exalted One (our right of service to the Buddha); if not, we shall battle with the King and take over the Sangha to do acts of merit towards them. Let us fight for our right. But there is one thing: we citizens alone might not be able to do so. Let us, therefore, find a chief who will lead us.”

Accordingly, they went to the general of the army and openly told him of their plan and directly asked: “O General, will you be one of us or will you join the King?” Then the general said: “I will be one of you. But there is one condition, you must give me the first day for my service to the Buddha.” And the citizens agreed.

The general went to the King and said: “The citizens are angry with you, Great King.” When asked by the King about the reason, he said: “Because you alone are attending to the Buddha and they do not have such a chance, so they say. Great King, it is not too late yet. If they were given permission to serve the Buddha, they would no longer be angry. If not, they said they would give battle to you.” Then the King replied: “General, I shall wage war but by no means shall I give up the Sangha.” “Great King,” said the general, putting the King in a difficult position: “Your servicemen are threatening that they will take up arms against you. Whom would you call up to encounter the looming war?” “Are not you my general?” asked the King persuasively. “I cannot fight being separated from the citizens, Great King,” said the general.

The King then realized: “The force of the citizens is great. The general too is one of them.” He therefore made a request, saying: “In that case, friends, let me feed the Sangha only for another period of seven years and seven months.” But the citizens did not agree and rejected the request. The King reduced the duration of his proposed dāna step by step to six years, five years, and so on and finally to seven days. Then the people came to a unanimous decision, saying among themselves: “Now that the King has asked for seven days to perform the the act of food offering, it is not good for us to be so stubborn in rivalry with him.”

King Bandhuma gave away, in seven days, all his offerings, which were meant for seven years and seven months. For the first six days, he did so without letting the people see. On the seventh day, however, he invited the citizens and showed them his grand offering of dāna, saying to sound them out: “Friends, will you be capable of giving such a grand dāna?” “Great King,” retorted the citizens: “but your dāna took place only with our help, isn’t it?” And he asserted. “Yes, we are capable.” Wiping the tears with the back of his palm, the King paid obeisance to the Buddha and said: “My dear son, Glorious Buddha, I have decided to support you together with one hundred and sixty-eight thousand monks for life with the four requisites, giving no assignments to others. But now I am compelled to allow the people to attend to you. In fact, they were angry with me and complaining about their deprivation of right of giving alms. My son, Exalted Buddha, from tomorrow onwards please do them a favour!” Thus did he pathetically utter words of compliance in despair.

The next day, the general gave a grand dāna to the Sangha with the Buddha at its head, as the agreement he had with the people. (Hence the story of Saddhāsumana may briefly be told as contained in the Aṅguttara Commentary Vol III.)

Story of Saddhāsumanā

On the day allotted to him, the general, while supervising his grand dāna, issued the order saying: “Care must be taken so that no other person should get a chance to offer even a spoonful or ladleful of rice,” and he placed sentries to keep watch around the area. That very day, a widow of a wealthy merchant of Bandhumatī was crying in great distress (because, she did not get a chance to offer her share of dāna for the first day). She complained pitiably, saying to her daughter who had just come back from the games she played with her five hundred female playmates: “My darling daughter, if your father were alive, I could have been today, the first to feed the Buddha.” The daughter responded saying words of comfort: “O mother, please do not worry! I will do something so that the Sangha, headed by the Buddha, would accept and partake of our meal first.”

After that, the daughter filled the gold bowl, which was worth a hundred thousand, with milk-food unmixed with water. She added butter, honey, molasses, etc. to enrich the food. She covered it with another gold bowl turned upside down and tied both the gold bowls with garlands of jasmine so that it might look like a ball of flowers. When the Buddha entered the city, she carried it herself on her head and left the house in a company of her many attendants.

On the way a dialogue took place between the wealthy lady and the watchmen:

Watchmen: Do not come here, daughter!

Lady: Dear uncles! Why don’t you allow me to go? (People of past good deeds speak endearing words. Others are not able to reject their repeated request.)

Watchmen: We are to keep watch, by the general’s order, that nobody else must be allowed to offer alms-food, daughter.

Lady: But, uncles, do you see any food in our hands that warrants you to bar me like this?

Watchmen: We see only the ball of flowers.

Lady: Well, did your general then say even offering of flowers was not allowable?

Watchmen: As for an offering of flowers, it is allowable, daughter.

The lady then saying to the watchmen, “In that case please go away. Do not prevent us, uncles,” she went to the Buddha and offered her gift with a request, “Please, Glorious Buddha, accept my offering of the ball of flowers.” The Buddha glanced at a watchman, signalling him to bring the floral ball.

The lady made obeisance and said:

“Glorious Buddha, may my life throughout saṃsāra be free from want and worry. May I be lovable to many, like this ball of jasmine flowers, and be named Sumanā in all my coming existences.”

As the Buddha answered: “May you be well and happy,” and the lady then paid respect to Him joyfully and departed.

The Buddha went to the general’s house and took the seat prepared for Him. The general brought rice gruel and offered it Him. The Buddha covered the bowl with His hand. The general thought that the Buddha did not accept the gruel because the monks had not all come yet. When all had come, the general reported saying that all were present and seated. The Buddha said: “We have already had a bowl of food which we received on the way. When the covering jasmines were removed from the bowls the milk-rice with puffs of steam was found. Then the general’s young serviceman who had brought the floral ball said: “General, I have been cheated by a distinguished woman who told me that it was just a ball of flowers.” The milk-rice was sufficient for all the monks beginning with the Buddha. Only after giving the milk-rice to the Buddha did the general hand over the offerings that were made by himself. When the partaking of food was over, the Buddha delivered a sermon on auspiciousness and left.

When the Buddha had left, the general asked his men about the lady’s name and they told her that the she was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. “What a wise woman she is! If such a wise woman administers a household, it may not be difficult for the house-father to attain divine pleasures.” Speaking in praise of the lady, the general managed to take her in marriage and placed her as the mistress of the house.

While taking charge of the wealth of both houses, her father’s as well as the general’s, she gave dāna to the Buddha till the end of her life. She was reborn in the celestial, abode, the world of sense pleasures. At that very moment, a rain of jasmines fell heavily, filling the whole divine city to about knee-deep. “This divine damsel has brought her own name, even by herself,” so saying all the devas named her “Sumanā Devī”.

Sumana Devī was away from woeful states for ninety-one aeons, taking rebirth in celestial and human abodes. Wherever she was reborn, there rained jasmines continuously and she continued to be known only as Sumanā Devī or Sumanā Kumārī. In the dispensation of the present Buddha, she was born of King Kosala’s Chief Queen. Simultaneously, in the households of the King’s various ministers, all her maids were born on the same day as Sumanā’s. On that very moment, jasmines flowers rained very heavily to about knee-deep.

Seeing that phenomenon, the King thought: “My daughter must have done a unique act of merit in the past” and became overjoyed. “My daughter had brought her name by herself,” and he let her bear the very name Sumanā. Pondering: “My daughter must not have been born alone,” the King had her birth-mates searched all over the city and hearing that five hundred girls were born, the King took the responsibility of feeding, nursing and bringing up all the five hundred birth-mates. He also ordered that each month the five hundred girls must be brought and presented to his daughter.

When Princess Sumanā was seven, the Buddha, in the company of monks, visited Savatthi as had been invited by the wealthy Anāthapiṇḍika through a messenger, for he had completed the construction of the Jetavana monastery. Anāthapiṇḍika went to King Kosala and said: “Great King, the Exalted One’s visit to our City of Savatthi means auspiciousness for you and us. Therefore, please send Princess Sumanā and her five hundred maids with water-filled pots, perfumes, flowers, etc. to welcome the Exalted One and receive Him. The King replied, saying: “Very well” and did as told by the merchant. Under the orders of the King, Sumanā approached the Buddha and paid Him homage with perfumes, flowers, etc. and stood at a suitable place. When the Buddha preached to Sumanā, even on His way, she and all her companions were established together in sotāpatti-phala. So were the five hundred girls, five hundred women and five hundred male lay devotees being established in the same Fruition at the Buddha’s Dhamma assembly. In this way, on the day the Buddha visited the monastery, before He reached it but while on the way, two thousand people became sotāpanna-ariyas.

When the Princess came of age, King Kosala gave her five hundred chariots and emblems of royalty so that she might use them on her travel, if any, with her five hundred companions. In those days, there were three women who received five hundred chariots and royal emblems from their parents. They were: (1) Princess Cundī, daughter of King Bimbisāra, (2) Visākhā, daughter of the wealthy merchant Dhanañcaya, and (3) Sumanā, daughter of King Kosala as her account has been just given. This is the account of Saddhāsumanā.

As had been said, the day after the general had the permission from the King and performed dāna to the Buddha on a grand scale. The citizens organized an offering that was greater than the King’s and performed mahā-dāna to the Sangha headed by the Buddha. When the meal-offering by the whole city was accomplished, the villagers near the citygate arranged their paying homage, as it was their turn to do so.

Then Householder Mahākāla discussed with his younger brother Cūḷakāla: “Our turn to pay homage to the Exalted One is tomorrow. What kind of homage shall we offer?” “Brother,” replied Cūḷakāla, “Please think by yourself of what is proper.” Then Mahākāla said: “Dear brother, if you follow my plan, from our land of sixteen pai, full of ripening sāli paddy, we shall take out the newly ripened paddy from the ears and cook milk-rice, which is befitting to the Exalted One?” Cūḷakāla presented his view: “Brother, if we do so, nobody will be benefited. Therefore I do not agree to that.”

Then Mahākāla said: “If you do not agree to it, I wish to have my share of property.” So the sixteen pai of land was divided into two halves, each measuring eight pai and a fence was erected in the middle of the two portions. Then Mahākala took out the tender grain from the ears, to which he added milk unmixed with water. He had it cooked and catumadhu put to it, and offered (1) the (first) food to the Sangha headed by the Buddha.

The strange thing was that the ears from which the grain had been taken out became full again with grain as before. (It was a dāna of the first grain formed in their earliest stage of development.)

Mahākāla similarly gave the following in charity: (2) the first portion of the paddy, that had partially developed to yield newly appeared grain, to be pounded; (3) the first portion of the paddy that had fully developed or ripened; (4) the first portion of the paddy that had been reaped; (5) the first portion of the paddy that had been made into sheaves; (6) the first portion of the paddy that had been piled up in sheaves;(7) the first portion of the paddy that had been threshed; (8) the first portion of the paddy that had been winnowed and (9) the first portion of the paddy that had been stored up in the granary.

In this way, each time he grew paddy, he accomplished dāna of the first portion (aggadāna) nine times. And never did the harvest of his paddy becomes low despite his dāna. In fact, the amount of paddy even increased and became bigger than before. This indeed was the Thera’s wholesome deed in connection with his expressed aspiration made in the past.