Part 6: Vīra’s special vow

The Blessed One went to the village Nandigrāma in his wandering. There he was worshipped devotedly by his father’s friend, Nandin. Then the Blessed One wandered to the village Meḍhakagrāma and there a cowherd, carrying a hair-rope, ran up to beat him. Purandara came there, as in the case of Kūrmāragrāma, restrained the cowherd as he was striking, and paid homage to the Teacher of the World.

Then the Blessed One left and went to the city Kauśāmbī. Its king was Śatānīka, inspiring fear in enemy armies. His queen Mṛgāvatī, daughter of King Ceṭaka, was a lay woman, always worshipping the Tīrthakṛt’s feet. The king’s minister was named Sugupta and his wife, Nandā, was Mṛgāvatī’s best friend because she was a laywoman. A very rich sheth, Dhanāvaha, lived there and he had a wife, Mūlā, an expert housewife. There the Master made a vow, difficult to be performed, difficult to be satisfied, on the first day of the dark half of the month Poṣa. “If a princess, who has been reduced to slavery, her feet bound by iron chains, shaven, fasting, weeping from distress, one foot inside the thereshold, the other one outside,—all seeking alms being turned away from the house—shall offer me kulmāṣa in the corner of a winnowing basket then only shall I break my fast even after a long time, not otherwise.”

With this secret vow having been made, daily the Lord goes to houses, high and low, at the right time. As the Master does not take alms when they are offered because of the vow, the townsmen are distressed daily, blaming themselves. Thus the Master, no alms being accepted, enduring the twenty-two trials, passed four months like four watches.

One day the Master entered Sugupta’s house for alms and was seen by Nandā from a distance. Saying, “By good fortune the Arhat Mahāvīra has come to my house,” Nandā got up to meet him, filled with joy. She, well-informed, brought him food in accordance with rules, but the Master left without taking it, because of his vow. “Alas! I am unfortunate. My wish was not fulfilled,” Nandā grieved aloud, being slow-witted. A slave-girl said to her grieving, “Every day this devārya goes away without taking alms. It is not only today that he has gone.” When she heard this, Nandā understood, “There is some special vow that is the reason he does not take even food free from life. How can the Master’s vow be known?”

With this thought Nandā stood, completely joyless, and Sugupta saw her. Sugupta said to her: “Why do you appear depressed? Has an order of yours been disobeyed by some one? Or have I committed a fault?” She said: “No order has been disobeyed and there is no fault of yours. However, the fact that I did not break Śrī Vīra’s fast is the occasion for grief to me. The Blessed Vīra comes continually for alms and goes away without taking alms, because of some special vow. Learn the Lord’s vow. If you do not know it, then your cleverness in observing other people’s thoughts is in vain, great minister.” Sugupta said: “I shall try to make the Lord of the World’s vow known tomorrow, my dear.”

Just then a female door-keeper of Mṛgāvatī, named Vijayā, came and, having heard their conversation, went and told the queen. Instantly Mṛgāvatī grieved likewise and Śatānīka, perplexed, asked her the reason for her grief. Mṛgāvatī, her eyebrows raised a little, explained in a speech etched with the outpouring of trouble from inner dejection: “Princes know this world, movable and immovable, by means of spies, but you do not know your own city. What shall we say in this case? The Blessed Vīra, the last Tīrthakṛt, entitled to worship from the three worlds, lives here. Do you, careless of your kingdom’s welfare, know this? After entering house after house, he goes away without taking alms because of some vow. Pray, do you know this? Shame on me, shame on you, shame on the ministers that the Supreme Lord has been here so long without taking alms, his vow unknown.” The king replied: “I, careless, have been very properly reproved, lady with a pure heart, in a place distinguished for dharma. After ascertaining his vow, tomorrow I shall cause the Master of the Universe to break his fast.” The king summoned the minister and said to him: “In my city the Lord of the Three Worlds has remained for four months without taking alms. Shame on us for this. The Lord’s vow must be known so that, after he has fulfilled the vow, I can cause the Lord of the World to break his fast for my own purification.” The minister said: “The Lord’s vow is not known. I am exceedingly grieved for that. Let some stratagem be devised.” Then the king summoned a teacher learned in the dharmaśāstras named Tathyavādin and said to him: “The rules of all religions are recited in your śāstra, clever sir. So tell me the Lord Jina’s vow.” The teacher said: “Indeed, there are many vows of sages in the categories of substance, place, time, and nature. This vow that has been taken by the Blessed One, certainly can not be known without special knowledge.”

Then the king had proclaimed in the city that many kinds of alms must be offered to the Lord with a vow, when he came for alms. From the king’s command and from faith all the people did so. The Master, whose vow had not been fulfilled, did not accept any alms at all. Yet the Lord, possessing pure knowledge, continued to have an unwithered body, watched every day by the townsmen full of shame and grief.