Part 7: The story of Candanā

Now in the past Śatānīka had gone one night with marines and besieged the city Campā, his arrival equal to a jump. Then Dadhivāhana, the lord of Campā fled. There is no other safety, except flight for men besieged by a stronger man. Looting of everything was proclaimed there by King Śatānīka and his soldiers looted Campā as they liked. A camelman seized King Dadhivāhana’s wife, Dhāriṇī, with the daughter Vasumatī. His business accomplished, Śatānīka went to Kauśāmbī surrounded by his soldiers, a sun to the night-blooming lotuses of his enemies. The camelman, infatuated with the beauty of Queen Dhāriṇī, said aloud in the presence of people as he was marching, “This beautiful woman shall be my wife, but I am going to take the girl to the cross-roads of the city and sell her.”

Hearing that, Queen Dhāriṇī thought to herself: “I was born in a great spotless family from the Moon. I am the wife of King Dadhivāhana sprung from a great family. From the beginning I have had full Jaina religion. After I have heard these words, shame that I am alive, a vessel of sin. O soul, fickle by nature, why do you still remain! If you do not depart of your own accord, still I will expel you by force at once, like a bird from the nest.”

Just as if crushed by her scorn, her breath instantly left her heart broken from distress. When the camelman saw her dead, he thought, “Shame on what I said about this good wife, that she would be my wife. Just as a melon perishes at the mere sight of a finger, so she perished at my harsh speech. In the same way the girl will perish.”

With this reflection he spoke to her gently, took her to Kauśāmbī and put her for sale on the king’s highway. By chance Sheth Dhanāvaha came there, saw her, and thought: “Judging from her appearance, she is not the daughter of common people. Lost from her parents, she has been obtained now by the cruel man, like a doe lost from the herd by a wicked hunter. Put up for sale here like meat, the poor girl will fall into the hands of some low person for money. Paying him even a big price I shall take her, an object of compassion. I am not able to abandon her like my own daughter. Staying in my house without misfortune, in due course she will meet her own people.”

So thinking, Dhanāvaha paid the price he wished and took the girl, Vasumatī, compassionately to his own house. He, pure-minded, asked her: “Child, whose daughter are you? What is your family? Do not be afraid. You are my daughter.” Unable to tell her family from pride, she said nothing and remained downcast, like a day-blooming lotus in the evening. He said to Shethnī Mūlā: “Wife, she is a daughter for us. She must be guarded and cherished very carefully like a flower.” So by the sheth’s order the girl lived in his house like her own house, giving delight to the eye, like a digit of the moon. Delighted by her modest speech and behaviour that were like sandal, the sheth and his attendants gave her the name Candanā. She reached a slight beginning of youth with a thigh like that of a young elephant, giving delight to the sheth like the night of a full moon to the ocean. When Mūlā saw Candanā naturally beautiful and especially so from youth, jealous, she thought:

“Even though he received her as a daughter, if, infatuated with her beauty, he should marry her, I would be dead, even though alive, alas!” From then on, Mūlā, evil-minded, continued to suffer day and night from vanity which has easy access to women.

One day the sheth, suffering from summer-heat, went to the house from the shop and by chance there was no servant to wash his feet at that time. Candanā got up respectfully and, though opposed by the sheth, began to wash his feet from devotion to her father. Then the abundant, glossy, dark, soft, loosened hair of her, weak, fell on the ground muddy from the water. Thinking, “The child’s hair must not get muddy from the ground,” the sheth lifted it with his pleasure-stick and fastened it carefully. Mūlā, standing in the window, saw that and thought: “The conjecture that I made before agrees (with this). The binding of her hair itself is the first link in being a wife of the sheth. Indeed, such an act is not that of a father. She must be dug up from the root like a disease that has arisen.” After making this resolution, evil-minded Mūlā stood like a witch. The sheth, after resting for a moment, went out again. Mūlā summoned a barber and had Candanā’s head shaved. Mūlā put chains on her feet and had Candanā, like a creeper, beaten very hard. A barren woman is subject to the Rakṣas of anger. Mūlā put Candanā in a distant part of the house, shut the door, and said to the servants: “This is to be told by no one to the sheth, when he asks. If any one tells, he shall be a burnt-offering in the fire of my anger.”

After restraining them in this way, Mūlā went to the main house. The sheth came in the evening and asked, “Where is Candanā?” From fear of Mūlā no one told him and the sheth had the idea, “My child is playing somewhere or is on the top of the house.”

At night he asked the same question and likewise no one answered. Honest-minded, he conjectured, “Candanā is asleep.” He did not see her on the next day nor on the third day, either. Filled with fear and anger, the sheth said to the servants: “Villains, tell me where my daughter Candanā is. If you know and do not tell, then I shall imprison you.” Hearing this, an old female slave among them thought: “I have lived a long time. My death is near. What will Mūlā do to me, if the news about Candanā is told?” With this thought, she told the story of Mūlā and Candanā. She went and showed the sheth Candanā’s prison. Sheth Dhanāvaha himself opened the door. Dhanāvaha saw Candanā there, suffering from hunger and thirst like a creeper singed by a forest-fire, bound by chains on her feet like a young cow-elephant newly captured, bald from being shaved like a female ascetic, her lotus-eyes filled with tears. Saying, “Be of good courage, child,” the sheth, tearful, went very quickly to the kitchen to get her food. Not seeing any superior food there, by chance Dhanāvaha gave Candanā kulmāṣa placed in the corner of a winnowing-basket. “While you eat this, I’ll bring a smith to cut your chains,” saying, the sheth went outside.

Standing up, Candanā thought to herself: “Alas! On the one hand is my birth in a royal family; on the other, such a condition as this. In this existence which is like a drama, the plot can change in a moment. This I have experienced. Oh! What shall I do? This kulmāṣa is for the purpose of breaking a two-day fast now. If a guest comes, I shall eat after giving him some, not otherwise.”

With this idea, she gave a look here and there from the door. At that time Lord Mahāvīra came for alms in his wandering. “Oh! Here is a suitable person! Oh! Here is a suitable person! Oh! here is a heap of merit for me, since some noble muni has come for alms.” After this thought, the girl started, carrying the basket of kulmāṣa. She pul one foot inside the threshold and the other outside. But she was not able to cross the threshold because of her chains. Standing there, she said to the Blessed One with tender devotion; “Master, even if this food is not suitable, nevertheless, accept it, you who delight only in benefits to others. Favor me.” Knowing that his vow was fulfilled, satisfied in regard to the categories—substance, et cetera, the Master held out his hand to her for the alms of kulmāṣa. Thinking, “Oh! I alone am blessed,” Candanā threw the kulmāṣa from the corner of the basket into the Master’s hand.

Delighted by the fulfilment of the Master’s vow, the gods came there and made the five divine things, the rain of treasure, et cetera. Her chains fell apart and golden anklets took their place; and there was abundant hair as before. Immediately the gods, devoted to Śrī Vīra, made Candanā have jeweled ornaments on her whole body. The gods made a loud noise filling the space between heaven and earth and, very joyful, sang and danced energetically like stage-directors.

Mṛgāvatī and Śatānīka, Sugupta and Nandā came there with their retinues, after hearing the sound of the drum. Even the lord of the gods, Śakra, his mind delighted, came very quickly to pay homage to the Lord whose vow had been fulfilled.

Dadhivāhana’s chamberlain, Sampula by name, who had been brought here when Campā was stormed, was set free by the king at that time. He came there and saw Vasumatī. Bowed at her feet, he wept at the top of his voice and made her weep at once also. Asked by the king, “Why do you weep?” the chamberlain replied tearfully: “She is the daughter of King Dadhivāhana and Dhāriṇī. Fallen from such high position, deprived of her parents, alas! she lives like a slave in another’s house. Therefore I weep.” The king said: “Do not grieve. It is she by whom Śrī Vīra, hero for the protection of the three worlds, his vow fulfilled, was given food.” Mṛgāvatī said: “Dhāriṇī was my sister. This girl, her daughter, will certainly be my daughter.”

The Blessed One, whose penance was six months lacking five days, after breaking fast at the end, left Dhanāvaha’s house. The Lord of Saudharma himself declared to King Śatānīka wishing to take the treasure because of the ascendancy of greed: “In this matter there is no ownership of yours, that you wish to take the rain of jewels. O king, he alone takes it to whom this girl gives it.” Asked by the king, “Who will obtain it?” Candanā said, “Sheth Dhanāvaha, truly my father because of his protection of me.” Then Sheth Dhanāvaha took the stream of treasure. Again Ākhaṇḍala said to King Śatānīka: “This girl, who has her last body,^[1] averse to desire for worldly pleasures, will be the first female disciple, when Vīra’s omniscience has developed. You must protect her until the manifestation of the Master’s omniscience.” After saying this and bowing to the Lord, Maghavan went to heaven.

Candanā was conducted by Śatānīka to the maidens’ quarters and she remained there meditating on the development of the Master’s omniscience. Mūlā, the root of evil, was expelled by the sheth. She, engaged in evil meditation,^[2] died and went to hell.

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

Before emancipation.

[2]:

Apadhyāna includes both ārta and raudra, but raudra is meant here, as Mūlā goes to hell, which is the penalty of dying in raudradhyāna. See I, n. 8.