Trishashti Shalaka Purusha Caritra

by Helen M. Johnson | 1931 | 742,503 words

This page describes Story of Darduranka which is the third part of chapter IX of the English translation of the Mahavira-caritra, contained within the “Trishashti Shalaka Purusha Caritra”: a massive Jain narrative relgious text composed by Hemacandra in the 12th century. Mahavira in jainism is the twenty-fourth Tirthankara (Jina) and one of the 63 illustrious beings or worthy persons.

Part 3: Story of Dardurāṅka

After this explanation, the Blessed One delivered a sermon warning against sin in a speech adapted to every dialect. Then a man, whose body was in an advanced stage of leprosy, came there, bowed, and sat down near the Tīrtheśa, like a mad dog in a house. Then fearlessly he anointed the Blessed One’s feet with the discharge from his sores like much sandal. Seeing that, Śreṇika thought angrily, “When he gets up, he must be killed since, very wicked, he is intent on injury to the Lord of the World.”

Just then the Lord Jina sneezed and the leper said, “Die,” and when Śreṇika sneezed, he said, “Live.” Abhayakumāra sneezed and he said, “Live or die.” The butcher Kāla sneezed and he said, “Do not live nor die.” Angered by the speech, “Die,” to the Jina, the king instructed his soldiers, “When he has got up from this place, seize him.”

At the end of the sermon, the leper got up and bowed to Mahāvīra and was surrounded by Śreṇika’s soldiers like a boar by Kirātas. Even as they looked on, assuming a divine form instantly, he flew up in the air, giving an imitation of the sun. This was described by the soldiers and the next day the Lord was asked by the king with astonishment, “Who is the leper?” and the Lord informed him, “He is a god.” Again the king asked the Omniscient, “How did a god become a leper or from what reason?”

The Blessed One said, “There is a city, Kauśāmbī by name, known to all. Śatānīka was its king. In this city there was a Brāhman, Seḍuka by name, always the boundary of the poor and the extreme limit of fools.

One day his wife, who was pregnant, said to him: ‘Brāhman, bring me ghī for the birthing. Otherwise, the pain is not to be borne.’ He said to her, ‘My dear, I do not have in any way cleverness by which I can obtain anything anywhere since the powerful are to be won by the arts.’ She said to the Brāhman: ‘Go and ask the king. For there is no other wishing-tree on earth except the king.’ The Brāhman agreed and set out with flowers, fruit, et cetera to attend upon the king, like one who wished for jewels upon the ocean.

Now at one time Kauśāmbī was completely blockaded by the King of Campā with unlimited forces, like the sky by the rainy season with clouds. Śatānlka stayed inside Kauśāmbī with his army waiting for a suitable time, like a serpent in its hole. After a long time the King of Campā started with a diminished army to go to his own home in the rainy season, like a rājahaṃsa.

At that time Seḍuka had gone to a garden for flowers and saw him with his diminished army like the moon at dawn with the stars without light. He went quickly to Śatānīka and informed him: ‘Your enemy goes away with a diminished army, like a serpent with its fangs drawn. If you go after him now, then he can be taken easily. For even a stronger man, if exhausted, can be defeated by one who is not exhausted.’

The king approved his proposition and set out with a complete army, cruel by means of the van of the army that was powerful from a rain of arrows. Then the King of Campā’s soldiers in the rear, perished unseeing. Who is able to see in the case of an unexpected stroke of lightning? The King of Campā escaped, a solitary fugitive, and the King of Kauśāmbī seized his elephants, horses, treasure, et cetera.

Śatānīka, delighted, entered Kauśāmbī and magnanimously said to the Brāhman Seḍuka, ‘Tell me what to give you.’ The Brāhman said to him: ‘I shall make my request after I have consulted my wife. For householders there is no other source of consideration except the housewife.’ Very delighted, the Brāhman told all this to his wife and she, very shrewd, thought to herself: ‘If I have him take a village, et cetera from the king, then he will take other wives. Surely wealth leads to pride.’ ‘You must ask for a daily audience, a front seat, food, and a dinar gratuity,’ she instructed her husband.

The Brāhman made his request accordingly and the king granted it, saying, ‘When a jar has reached the ocean, it takes water suitable for itself.’ So daily he received those things and attained high respect. The favor of kings spreads great benefits for men. He was honored by the people constantly, ‘He is honored by the king.’ Who would not serve the man to whom the king is gracious?

He ate several times daily, vomiting what he had eaten before, from greed for gifts. Alas! Brāhmans are greedy. The Brāhman prospered from the numerous gifts of money and spread out with sons, grandsons, et cetera like a banyan with its roots. But his skin became injured by the raw liquids coming up constantly from the vomiting of undigested food, like a pippal injured by lac. Gradually he became a leper with his nose, feet, and hands destroyed. He ate before the king just the same, insatiable like a fire.

One day his ministers told the king: ‘Your Majesty, that man is a leper. Leprosy is contagious. For him to eat here is not fitting. His children are healthy. Let one of them eat here. If a statue is broken, another statue is set up.’ The king said, ‘Very well,’ and the Brāhman was so informed by the ministers. He installed a son in his place and stayed at home himself.

The Brāhman, crowned with a mass of small flies, like a honey-cake, was thrown out of the house into a hovel by his sons. His daughters-in-law also went to feed him, filled with disgust, spitting, their heads turned away, holding their noses. His sons did not obey his orders when he had been put outside; but gave food in a wooden bowl to him like a dog. The Brāhman reflected: ‘They have been made wealthy by me. I have been abandoned by them regardless, like a boat by men who have crossed water. They do not please me even by words; they actually make me angry. An angry leper is not satisfied, concealed with the words, “He should not be.” Just as they are disgusted with me, I will do so that they shall be disgusting.’

After these reflections, he said to his sons: ‘I am tired of living. This is the custom of the family, sons. Those who are about to die must give the household an animal that has been purified by a charm. Bring an animal.’ Delighted at hearing this, slow-witted like an animal, they brought an animal. He made his body burst repeatedly from food and fed the animal the diseased discharges so that it became leprous.

One day the Brāhman killed the animal and gave it to his sons. They, ignorant of his intention, foolishly ate it. The Brāhman took leave of his sons, saying, ‘I shall go to a holy place for my own benefit.’ And he went away, head erect, considering a forest to be a refuge. As he was exceedingly thirsty, he wandered in the forest for a long time, looking for water, and saw a pond, like a friend, in a place with various trees. The Brāhman drank the water that had leaves, flowers, and fruit scattered by the trees on the bank and was heated by the midday summer sun, like an infusion. As he, suffering from thirst, drank the water again and again, a purging with worms took place. In a few days he was cured and had beautiful limbs from the water in the pool, like a tree from spring. Delighted at being cured, the Brāhman returned to his own house quickly. Men have an affection for their place of birth when a fine appearance arises from a difference in the body.

Entering the city, he was beheld by the citizens with astonishment, glistening like a snake that has cast off its old skin. Questioned by the townsmen, ‘How have you been cured as if reborn?’ the Brāhman explained, ‘By propitiation of the gods.’ He went to his own house and saw with pleasure that his sons were lepers. He said to them, ‘This fruit of contempt was well given by me.’ The sons said, ‘Cruel father, why did you, like an enemy, do this to us trusting (you)?’

Reviled by the people, he came to your city, king, and, shelterless, took shelter with a doorkeeper who kept a door for a living. We came here at that time, and the doorkeeper left the Brāhman in charge of his work and went to hear our sermon. He served at the door and in pain from hunger ate at pleasure the offering in front of the door-Durgās,[1] as if he had not seen any in his life. From the food that he ate up to his neck and from summer-heat he was made like a desert-traveler filled with thirst that has developed. From fear of the door-keeper, he did not go to wells, et cetera, deserting his post, but suffering from thirst, he considered water-creatures fortunate. Crying, ‘Water! Water!’ he died from thirst and was born a frog in the tank at the city-gate here.

In our wandering we came again to this town and the people came forth eagerly to pay homage to us. The frog heard the news of our arrival from the lips of water-carriers and thought to himself, ‘Somewhere I have heard this before.’ Then as he used ūha and apoha again and again, the recollection of former births, like the recollection of a dream, took place immediately. The frog thought: ‘The Blessed One has come here, whom the door-keeper went to worship before, after putting me in charge of the door. Just as these people go to see him, I shall go, too. The Gaṅgā, common to all, is ancestral (properly) of no one.’ Then as he jumped along the road with the intention of paying homage to us, the frog died, crushed by your horse’s hoof, as he came.

Purified by devotion to me, he was born a god, Dardurāṅka. For intention bears fruit surely even without accomplishment. Indra said in his assembly, ‘The followers of the Arhat are inferior to Śreṇika.’ He did not believe this and came to test you. He anointed my feet with gośīrṣa-sandal. Every other strange thing was done for the confusion of your eye.”

Śreṇika said: “Master, why did he say something inauspicious when the Lord sneezed, but something auspicious and inauspicious when others sneezed?” The Blessed One explained: “‘Why do you stay in existence even today? Seek emancipation quickly,’ he said to me in the word, ‘Die.’ He said ‘Live,’ to you, since you are happy while living. When you are dead, O man-lion, you will have an existence in hell. He said to Abhaya, ‘Live or die,’ because he practices dharma while he lives and will be in the palace Anuttara after he dies. He said, ‘Do not live and do not die,’ to the butcher Kāla because he is devoted to evil while living and will go to the seventh hell after death.”

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

I.e. statues of Durgā in front of doors.

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