History of India   
The Unknown Ashoka – 2

How Ashoka Acquired Merit

After Ashoka had accepted the teachings of the Buddha through Samudra’s miracles, he decided to distribute the holy relics throughout the country. The problem was that all the relics of the Buddha had been enshrined by Ajaatashatru (Bimbisara’s son who killed his father to become king) and seven other kings of that time in drona stupas. These were so called because each contained one drona (pitcher) of the relics. It is said in the Mahaaparinibbana Sutta that a ninth stupa was built by the Brahmin Drona (who had divided the relics into eight parts) over the drona used to measure out the relics and a tenth by the Moriyas of Pipphalivana over the embers of the cremation fire.

Ashoka, in his characteristic fashion, tackled the problem through direct action. Going first to the drona stupa built by Ajaatashatru, he broke it open, removed the contents, put back a portion and built there a new stupa. He proceeded to this with the others until he had finished setting up seven stupas in place of the ones he had broken open. He could not, however, locate the eighth stupa:

Eight measures of relics there were of the far-seeing one, of the best of men.
In Jambudveepa seven are worshipped,
and one portion in Raamagraama by the Naga kings.

Raamagraama had been washed into the Ganga. Ashoka managed to reach it and was respectfully received by the Nagas who showed him the drona stupa, but refused to part with the relics as they worshipped it. Ashoka, it seems, realized that he would never be able to match the Nagas in their devotion, and this is shown on the bas-reliefs at the Sanchi and Amaravati stupas. Fa-hsien and Hsuan-tsang relate the same story.

According to the Mahaavamsa tradition, the Nagas told Ashoka that these relics had been set aside by the Buddha himself for Dutthagaamani, King of Sri Lanka (circa 101-77 B.C). However, the Sanskrit traditions tell another story. Ashoka, they say, found his way to the eighth stupa barred by a great wheel armed with razor sharp blades spinning in the river.³ He turned to a monk for advice, who told him to throw large quantities of plum into the current, which would jam the machinery. Ashoka did so and got past this obstacle only to be stopped by a huge Naga monarch guarding the relics. Once again, he turned to the monk who stated that only when his merit exceeded that of the Naga would he be able to pass safely. On the monk’s advice, Ashoka had two golden statues made of himself and the Naga King and got them weighed. To his consternation, the Naga’s statue turned out heavier! Yet again, the monk provided the solution: Ashoka must acquire greater merit.

And so, Ashoka went back, performed good work (we are not told what he did) and returned to the weighing only to find that the statues now were of equal weight. He had, therefore, to acquire more merit until his statue sank down, and the Naga king let him pass. Then, we are told, Ashoka entered the holy chamber and took out the relics. At that exact instant the oil lamp lit there by Ajaatashatru went out. Ashoka was amazed and asked the monk how the monarch had known exactly how much oil to put in the lamp. The reply was that in the days of the Buddha such marvelous calculators existed who could determine with exactitude such matters. The Thupavamsa tells us that Ashoka found in this relic chamber a golden inscription that said, “In the future, a Prince named Piyadaasa will raise the umbrella of state and become a righteous monarch named Ashoka who will take these relics and have them widely distributed.”

Ashoka had eighty four thousand boxes made of gold, silver, cat’s eye and crystal to house the relics, along with an equal number of urns and inscriptions. These he gave to the Yashas for placing in the stupas he built throughout the country wherever there were a lakh of people. Now, the people of Takshashila numbered 36 lakh and they petitioned Ashoka for 36 boxes. Ashoka realized that if he agreed to this the relics would not be dispersed as widely as he planned. Typically, he cut this Gordian knot by informing them that since he could afford only to give one share, he would have to execute 35 lakh Takshashilans! We hear no further of their insistence.

Now Ashoka approached the elder Yashas, head of the Kukkutaaraama monastery, and expressed his desire to consecrate all the 84000 stupas on the same day, at the same time. Yashas agreed to signal the moment by concealing the sun with his hand. And thus, a solar eclipse signaled the momentous achievement, and the change of the king from Ashoka the Fierce (Chandaashoka) to Ashoka the Righteous (Dharmaashoka).

One day the soothsayers in the court declared that Ashoka’s body bore certain inauspicious marks. To remove these he was advised to perform meritorious deeds. Ashoka approached Yashas and wanted to know why these marks persisted despite his having built eighty four thousand stupas as foretold by the Buddha. Yashas told him that thereby he had acquired merit only for himself, which was “lighter” than urging others to do good deeds.

Hence, Ashoka disguised himself as a wandering mendicant and went from door to door for alms, because the giving of alms brought merit to the giver. One day he came to the ramshackle hut of a very poor widow who had nothing at all to give. Yet, seeing the opportunity to perform a good deed, she did not forego it. All she had was a single cloth she was wearing. Hiding behind the bamboo-matting wall of her hut, she held out her only covering. Profoundly moved, Ashoka presented her with a precious necklace and several villages.

At another house, he met an aged and poverty-ridden couple who had nothing to give. But they exhorted him to wait, and went to a rich neighbor to borrow seven gold pieces, undertaking to become his slaves if they could not repay him within a week. This gold they gave as alms to Ashoka who gifted them clothes, jewels and villages. In this manner, Ashoka went round exhorting others to acquire merit. The inauspicious marks on his body disappeared.

Now, in Ashoka’s palace lived a servant girl who was sorrowful for she thought that Ashoka had become so great because of the meritorious acts he had done in the past life, while her being destitute was undoubtedly the result of bad deeds in her earlier lives. She wondered how she would ever acquire merit, as she had nothing to give as alms to monks. One day, while sweeping, she came upon a coin in the garbage. Despite being so poor, she took it to the monastery and happily donated it. Soon thereafter, she died and was reborn as the daughter of one of Ashoka’s queens, with her fist tightly clenched. Ashoka opened it to find a gold coin. Every time he removed it, another appeared in its place! Ashoka reported this miracle to Yashas, who explained that this was the result of her having offered her only coin to the Sangha in her previous birth. This tale and that of the poor widow who gifts her sole garment remind us of Christ’s parable of the widow’s mite.

Once, while going through his treasury, Ashoka came across a chipped gem. On making enquiries, he was told that it used to be part of King Ajaatashatru’s armour. It carried an inscription that incensed Ashoka: “Bequeathed to the poor King Ashoka who will reign in the future.” Furious, Ashoka asked his Prime Minister Radhagupta, “Ajaatashatru was a minor prince, while I rule over all of Jambudveepa. How could he call me poor?” Radhagupta suggested that the king test out the gem. It was found that anyone wearing it could digest poison. Ashoka then reflected that this chipped gem, which was a part of Ajaatashatru’s armour, was immeasurably superior to all that he had in his treasury. Indeed, he was poor compared to those who lived at the time of the Buddha and acquired unrivalled merit then.

Ashoka once met a seven-year old novice and waited until they were in a place where none could see them. Then he prostrated himself before the monk-in-training and urged him, “Please, do not tell anyone that I bowed down before you.” Nearby was a jar. Suddenly, the novice entered it, emerged through the spigot by means of his powers, and told the king: “O king, do not tell anyone that I entered this jar and came out again through the spigot.” Ashoka protested that such a marvel could not be hid and that he would have to tell everyone about it. That is why, it is said,

Three things should never be maligned –
a young king, a young naga and a young monk.
The first, though young, can slay men;
the second, though tiny, can make it rain;
and the third, though small, can save mankind.

Thereafter, Ashoka used to throw himself at the feet of Buddhist monks regardless of the place and the people watching. His minister, Yashas, found this inappropriate and told him,” Your majesty, you ought not to prostrate yourself before wandering monks, for Buddhist monks come from all castes.” Ashoka did not respond immediately.

A few days later, Ashoka called his ministers and told them that he required the heads of different types of animals. Knowing his violent temper (he had executed many ministers in the past) they did not ask him why he wanted these but each of them quickly went about procuring the type of head specified by Ashoka. Yashas was asked to bring a human head.

When all the ministers had obtained the heads, Ashoka asked them to sell these in the market. Soon they had all succeeded except Yashas, who found that none would buy it. He was told, thereupon, to give it away. Yet, none would accept it even free. Yashas came back, crestfallen, to report:

O King, the heads of cattle, asses, deer, birds –
all were sold for a price to buyers;
but none would take this worthless human head,
even free of charge.

Ashoka asked Yashas, “Why is it that no one will accept this human head?” “Because,” answered Yashas, “it disgusted them.” Ashoka asked him whether people found this particular head disgusting or all human heads. Yashas replied, “All human heads they find disgusting.” “What!” exclaimed the king “is my head disgusting too?” After much hesitation and at the insistence of Ashoka, Yashas finally answered, “ Yes.” Now Ashoka explained to him the intention behind this baffling exercise:

If I acquire some merit
by bowing down a head so disgusting
that none on earth would take it.
what harm is there?

After this, Ashoka built chaityas to mark for pilgrims the holy spots of the Buddha’s birth, the Bodhi tree, the place where he preached first and where he departed from the world. At each of these, he donated a lakh of gold pieces. He did the same at the stupas of the foremost disciples, Sariputra foremost of the wise; Mahamaudgalyayana foremost of those with supernatural powers; Mahakashyapa, greatest of those who were contented and had conquered desire; Ananda, who preserved the teachings for posterity. But at the stupa of Batkula, he offered but a pice. The bewildered ministers begged him to enlighten them on this distinction. Ashoka explained:

Even though he dispelled with the lamp of perfect knowledge the darkness of his mind, he never preached two words to anyone as others did for the benefit of mankind.

Thus, though Batkula lacked desires, he also lacked the purpose to serve humanity.

It is while honoring the Bodhi tree that Ashoka went through a traumatic experience. His chief queen Tishyarakshitaa was very possessive by nature. She overheard Ashoka ordering that his most precious jewels should be sent to Bodhi. The queen thought that there was little point in being the chief queen when the king was sending the best jewels to another woman, for that is what she mistook Bodhi to be. Hence, she summoned a sorceress and commanded her to destroy her rival, Bodhi. The witch tied a mantric thread around the tree, which soon began to wither. Hearing of this the king was distraught and sobbed aloud:

When I looked at the king of trees, I knew
I was seeing the Buddha himself. If the
Lord’s tree dies, I too shall surely expire!

Tishyarakshitaa, seeing the king sorrowing for Bodhi, told him, “My Lord, what if Bodhi should die? I am still here to bring you pleasure.” “Foolish woman,” retorted Ashoka, “Bodhi is not a woman, but the tree under which the Blessed One attained complete enlightenment.” Realizing her mistake, the queen asked the witch to restore the tree, and this was done after the thread was untied and the tree watered with a hundred jars of milk a day.

The Legend of Kunaala

On the day Ashoka consecrated the eight four thousand stupas, his queen Padmaavati gave birth to a son whose eyes were so beautiful that he was named Kunaala after the Himalayan bird of that name which alone had such eyes. In course of time, the prince wedded Kaanchanamala. During a visit to the monastery, Kunaala met the venerable Yashas, who realized what would happen, and advised the prince:

Constantly examine the eye. For it is fickle
And attaches you to many sufferings.

The prince made it a habit to sit in solitude and meditate on the failings of the eye. One day, finding him alone, queen Tishyarakshitaa approached him amorously:

Your handsome, glorious body
and your lovely eyes consume me,
as a forest fire burns kindling.

Kunaala was horrified, and begged her to shun the evil path. Tishyarakshitaa, enraged at being spurned, schemed to destroy the prince.

It so happened that the city of Takshashila rebelled and Ashoka sent Kunaala there, recalling how his father had sent him there in the past. The Takshashilans welcomed the prince and said they had been forced to rebel against evil ministers. Back at the capital, Ashoka had fallen very ill and wanted his son back, to be crowned as he was despairing of recovery. Tishyarakshitaa hearing this was worried, fearing death at Kunaala’s hands if he became king.

Hence, she persuaded Ashoka that she could cure him provided he forbade all the doctors from treating him. Then she ordered the physicians to bring her anyone they found to be suffering from the same symptoms as the king. A few days later, a doctor brought such a person to the queen. In secret she had him slain, and examined his stomach where she found a large worm. She then experimented with various medicines and found that onions killed it. Tishyarakshitaa then told Ashoka that he must eat an onion to recover, overruling his objections by pointing out that this was a medicine to save his life. Ashoka recovered and in joy granted her a boon. The queen requested the grant of sovereignty for seven days. Ashoka was worried. What would happen to him, he wondered. Tishyarakshitaa reassured him that she would return the throne to him thereafter.

Once installed as ruler, Tishyarakshitaa’s first thought was to take revenge on Kunaala. In Ashoka’s name, she composed a letter to the people of Takshashila ordering them to gouge out the eyes of the prince, for she hated those wonderful eyes that had infatuated her. Now, whenever Ashoka wanted his orders to be carried out speedily, he used to seal them with his teeth. Finding him asleep, the queen tried to get him to bite the letter. At the critical juncture Ashoka started up exclaiming:

“ O Queen, I just saw two vultures
trying to pluck out Kunaala’s eyes!”
“ May the prince be well,” said the queen,
and Ashoka slept again.

A second time he awoke in cold sweat, exclaiming, “I saw Kunaala entering the city with a beard, long hair and long nails.” “May the prince be well,” said the queen, and again he slept. This time she managed to get the impression of his teeth on the letter and sent it off to Takshashila.

The people of the city, however, were unwilling to comply with the command, though frightened that if they did not Ashoka would not spare them, for he was so ruthless as to want to blind his favorite son. They lamented, “Whom will he not hate if he hates the prince who is calm and an accomplished sage desiring the welfare of all?”

Kunaala, however, calmly asked them to comply with the orders. Hence, the chandaals were summoned and asked to pluck out his eyes. They, however, refused to darken the moon-like beauty of his face. When offered the prince's diadem, they turned away protesting against the evil deed. Ultimately, one person agreed, and then Kunaala recalled the words of Yashas about the transience of sight. He told the man:

“Do as the King orders, for whether my eyes are gouged out or not I have already grasped the essence of sight, which is impermanent, suffering-full and empty.”

Kunaala then bade the man to pluck out first one eye and place it in his hand. This was done amid loud lamentation of the citizens, but Kunaala grasped it and spoke thus:

“Why do you not see as before, O lump of fashioned flesh? Only fools depend on you thinking, “This is the self!" You are but a bubble and the wise do not chase after the suffering you cause.”

Now he asked the other eye to be plucked out. With both gone, his eye of wisdom shone forth within and he said, “Though rejected by the king whose son I am said to be, I have become, the son of the King of Dharma. Fallen from sovereignty, bound to suffering, I have obtained the kingship of Dharma which ends all sorrow.”

When he had found out that this was the work of Tishyarakshitaa, he blessed her and wished her long life, for she had brought about his enlightenment. When his wife lamented that the eyes which brought her joy were gone, he told her not to weep, for separation from dear ones and suffering was the way of the world and mankind was made up of sorrow.

Husband and wife set out afoot for Pataliputra, Kunaala was very delicate and unfit for hard work. He earned alms by playing the veenaa and singing. They returned to the capital, but the guards turned away the tattered, blind beggar from the gates of the royal palace. They took shelter in the coach-house and at night Kunaala played the veena, singing of how his eyes had been ripped out and so he attained a vision of truth. Recognizing the voice, Ashoka bade the guards seek out Prince Kunaala. They returned without him, stating that it was not the prince but a blind beggar who was singing. Recalling his dreams, Ashoka was sure this was his son and ordered him to be brought before him. Seeing a virtual skeleton before him, Ashoka had to be told by Kunaala that it was indeed he, before he could believe the heart-rending sight. Furious at the torture inflicted, and weeping with agony, Ashoka demanded of Kunaala who had wrought this pitiless deed. Kunaala however, exhorted him not to grieve over what was over for, he said, “The fruit of acts done in this world is one's own. How then can I speak of this as having been done by others?”

Ashoka, however, persisted and found out that this was the work of Tishyarakshitaa. Summoning her he raged, “First I'll tear out her eyes and then I think I’ll rip open her body with sharp rakes, impale her alive, cut off her nose with a saw, her tongue with a razor and fill her with poison.” Such and other ways he spoke of for her execution. But Kunaala urged him, “If Tishyarakshitaa’s deeds were not honorable, let not yours be like her. Kill her not, for the reward of loving-kindness is unparalleled, and forgiveness was extolled by the Buddha. O king, I feel no pain for there is none in my mind. I have only kind thoughts for her and if this be true, may my eyes be restored!” As soon as he said this, Kunaala's sight was restored.

But Ashoka did not forgive his queen. He threw her into a lacquer house and burnt it down over her. He had the citizens of Takshashila executed too.

Some monks asked Upagupta, the sinless Buddha, why Kunaala had to suffer thus. Upagupta told them that in a past birth Kunaala had been a hunter of Varanasi who had come upon a herd of five hundred deer in a mountain cave and had trapped them in a net. Realizing that if he killed them all the meat would rot, he hit upon the idea of blinding them, so that they could not run away. Because of this, he was reborn many times and lost his own eyes each time. Again, many aeons ago a king had built a stupa for the Buddha Krakucchanda, which was stripped of its jewels by his successor. Seeing this, the son of a businessman completely renovated the stupa and set there a life-size image of that Buddha. He then made a resolute wish to meet a master like Krakucchanda. Because he rebuilt the stupa, he was born as a royal prince. For installing the image, he became the good-looking Kunaala. And because of his vow, he was worthy of Lord Shakyamuni, the Buddha, through whom he attained enlightenment.

Ashoka's Last Gift

Ashoka was desperate to be known as the greatest of all donors to the Faith of the Buddha. He enquired of the monks who had been, so far, the greatest donor. They informed him that it was the householder Anaathapindada who had gifted the Sangha one hundred crore gold pieces. Ashoka wished to do likewise. He had, until then, gifted ninety-six crore by building the stupas and chaityas, holding the quinquennial festival, etc. It so happened that Ashoka's health began to fail, and he grew despondent, fearing he would be unable to fulfill his resolve. He therefore began sending gold coins regularly to the monastery at Kukkutaraama.

By that time, Kunaala's son Sampadin had become the crown prince. His advisors told him that the king was exhausting the state treasury and ought to be restrained. Sampadin, thereupon, ordered the treasurer not to disburse state funds. Ashoka, then, began to send the golden plates on which his food was brought to the monastery as offerings. Sampadin extended the ban to this too. Ashoka began to be served on silver dishes. He sent these as well to the Sangha. When silver was replaced by copper and then by clay plates, the king persisted in despatching those to Kukkutaraama.

A day came when all that Ashoka had left was half of a myrobalan (amlaka) fruit. Taking it in his hand he summoned all his ministers and, very upset, asked them, “Who is now Lord of the earth?” All of them bowed to him and declared it was he. But Ashoka, his eyes clouded with tears, said:

“You lie to humor me. The only thing remaining under my rule is this half of an amlaka. Woe! O woe to sovereignty that is like the flood waters at the river-mouth! My commands are flouted like a river turned back by a cliff. Like an ashoka tree with its flowers plucked, its leaves shriveled and fallen, this king is drying up.”

Ashoka than called a passer-bye and said, “My friend, though I have fallen from power, do this last task for me, out of regard for my past virtues. Take this my half-amlaka, and offer it to the monastery on my behalf, saying, ‘I offer you the present greatness of the king who ruled all of Jambudveepa’ and request to have it so distributed that it is enjoyed by the whole community of monks.”

The citizen faithfully performed his duty and offered the half of the fruit to the monastery saying, “He who previously ruled the earth, warming it like the sun at noon, today he is deceived by his karmic acts and finds his glory gone like the setting sun at dusk.”

The head of the monastery then addressed the monks:

“The lord of men has gone from being lord of Jambudveepa to being lord of half an amlaka, which he presents as a reproof to those who wish to enjoy regal splendor. Today one may show emotion, for the misfortune of others is an occasion to be upset.”

He had the half-amlaka mashed, put in a soup and distributed to the entire Sangha of monks.

Then Ashoka asked his prime minister, “Tell me, Radhagupta, who is now lord of the earth?” Falling at his feet, Radhagupta replied, “Your majesty is lord of the earth.” Then Emperor Ashoka struggled to his feet, gazed in the four directions and announced:

“Except for the state treasury I give to the Sangha this earth with its Mandara mountain and its dark blue garment, the ocean, and its face adorned with many jewels. With this gift, I do not seek any rebirth in heaven or even less on earth as a king. Because I give it with faith, I would obtain as its fruit something that cannot be stolen, that which is honored by the Aryas and safe from all flux: sovereignty over the mind.”

Having inscribed this and sealed it with his teeth, Ashoka passed away. When the ministers prepared to install Sampadin as king, Radhagupta reminded them that Ashoka had gifted the whole kingdom away. When the ministers were at a loss, Radhagupta told them that it had been Ashoka's desire to donate one hundred crore gold coins to the Sangha and that when he died ninety-six crore had been gifted. It was to complete his intention that he had gifted the kingdom. Thereupon the ministers gave four crore gold coins to the Sangha and redeemed the kingdom to consecrate Sampadin.

The Legend of Veetashoka

The subjects of Ashoka became, by and large, inclined towards Buddhism. However, his brother, Veetashoka, was prejudiced against them. Once, when the brothers were hunting in the forest, they came across an ascetic who was performing the penance of the five fires (meditating surrounded by five fires). Veetashoka asked him various questions and got to know that he had been performing this for twelve years, living on fruits and roots, sleeping on the hard ground, wearing grass or bark. “Blessed one,” asked Veetashoka, “are you disturbed in any manner?” “Yes,” replied the seeker, “passions still consume me.” Veetashoka now turned to his brother and told him that when the world-renouncing ascetic had failed to conquer his passions despite the long-drawn penance there was little doubt that the Buddhist monks, sleeping on comfortable couches and eating well, were slaves of passion. Veetashoka pointed out that Ashoka had been deceived in paying them homage, for Mount Vindhya would sooner float in the ocean than they be masters of their senses.

Ashoka later called his ministers and told them to arrange matters so that when he was taking his bath, Veetashoka should wear the crown and sit on the throne. Accordingly the ministers approached Veetashoka and told him that as he was the king’s successor, they were keen to see how he looked wearing the royal diadem and seated on the lion’s seat. When Veetashoka had agreed and was thus dressed and seated, Ashoka suddenly appeared and pretended to be furious that in his lifetime another should dare to assume the throne. The executioners were summoned, but on cue the ministers pleaded with the king to forgive him. Ashoka then said, “I will pardon him for seven days. And since he is my brother, I grant him the kingship for a week, out of brotherly love.”

Immediately music was played, thousands of people rejoiced, and saluted Veetashoka as king and many women came to serve him. But the long-haired executioners dressed in blue stood at the door and at the end of day they would come to Veetashoka and tell him, “Gone, Veetashoka is another day; only so many more are remaining.” Finally, on the last day, he was brought before Ashoka who asked him how he had enjoyed the week. Veetashoka replied, “I could neither see nor hear the pleasures. You should get someone who heard the songs, saw the dances, tasted the flavors, to answer you.” “But,” asked Ashoka, “ I gave you the kingship. I saw you saluted by hundreds, surrounded by lovely women. How can you say you did not see or hear anything?” Veetashoka replied plangently:

Women, dance, song, palace, beds, seats,
youth, beauty, fortune and the gem-encrusted earth
all were joyless and empty for me.
For I could see the executioners at the door,
hear the ghastly sound of their bells,
and I was dreadfully afraid of death.
I could not sleep and spent all night thinking
“ I am going to die,”

Ashoka smiled and said, “Tormented everyday by the fear of death in but a single lifetime, sensual pleasures failed to delight your mind. How then can there be any delight in sensual pleasures in the minds of monks who muse constantly on the fear of death in hundreds of future lives? Viewing the body as a deadly enemy and their lives as impermanent as a burning house, how can they not be liberated when they turn away from rebirth, their minds parting from pleasure as water slips off a lotus leaf?”

Thus, Veetashoka came to accept the teachings of the Buddha and ultimately decided to become a monk. Here, too, Ashoka carefully prepared the way.

Initially, Ashoka sought to dissuade Veetashoka by pointing out, “The ascetic life results in deterioration of appearance; your garments will be rags from the dust-heap and your cloak something that was thrown out by a servant; your food will consist of alms collected from strangers; your bed and your seat a layer of grass at the foot of a tree. When you are sick food will be difficult to get and urine will be your medicine. You are so delicate and unable to bear heat and cold, hunger and thirst: I beg you to reconsider.” When he found that Veetashoka was persistent in his resolve, Ashoka shed tears at the thought of losing his only brother. Veetashoka now comforted him:

“I have seen this world afflicted by suffering desired by Death and encompassed by evil; afraid of rebirth, I must follow the auspicious path. Your majesty, samsara is like a swinging palanquin; those who get into it must surely fall off. Why are you so disturbed when surely we must part someday?”

Ashoka then begged him to carry out his begging nearby and had a bed of leaves made within the palace in a grove. Veetashoka used to take alms from the royal women, who ensured that he received a sumptuous meal. Seeing this, Ashoka ordered that they should give him only mashed rotten beans as food fit for the ascetic. Veetashoka ate these calmly. Realizing that his brother’s resolve was unshaken, Ashoka permitted him to wander forth and to return when he had achieved enlightenment.

Years later, living in Videha, Veetashoka attained arhathood, and experienced the peace of liberation. He then returned to his brother, as he had promised. Ashoka, seeing Veetashoka in a robe of cast-off rags with a clay begging bowl full of coarse and fine food indiscriminately thrown, and the equanimity on his face despite coming face-to-face with him after so long, began weeping. Gradually, he recovered his senses and said:

“I have seen an heir to the throne forsake pride, jealousy and quarrelling, even the dynasty, the city of Magadha with its jewels. Yet I rejoice for my house has been honored, my city filled with glory. Expound, my brother, the noble Teaching of the Dashabala (the Buddha).”

Then the venerable Veetashoka preached a sermon, and left the city followed by the king. At its gates, he flew into the air to manifest his qualities of liberation and wisdom. Bidding him farewell, Ashoka cried out, “Free from family ties, you fly off like a bird leaving us behind, who are bound in shackles of worldly passions. Your power humbles our pride.”

Veetashoka passed his life somewhere in the borderlands. Here he fell ill. By the time he recovered, his hair, nails, beard had all grown. In the meantime, in Pundravardhana (Gauda in Bengal) a follower of Nirgrantha Gyatiputra (Mahavira Jina) had drawn a picture showing the Buddha bowing at the feet of his Master. Hearing of this, Ashoka ordered that all the followers of Nirgrantha Gyatiputra in Pundravardhana be executed. 1800 were thus slain. Later, however, a similar event occurred in Pataliputra itself. Ashoka first burnt the man who he thought showed disrespect to the Buddha and the man’s family too. Then he proclaimed a reward of a deenaara (gold coin) per head of a heretic.

Some enthusiastic men began beheading mendicants or ascetics who were not Buddhists.
At this time, Veetashoka came to spend a night in the house of a cowherd. Seeing his tattered clothes, long nails, hair and beard, the cowherd’s wife thought he was a Nirgrantha heretic. She advised her husband to earn a gold coin. The cowherd then unsheathed his sword and approached Veetashoka, who sat unmoved, knowing that the time had come to reap the fruit of his past misdeeds.

When Veetashoka’s head was brought to Ashoka, he collapsed in a faint. Radhagupta then pointed out to him the suffering being inflicted even on those who had attained freedom from desire. It was only then that Ashoka resolved to guarantee the security of all beings. Henceforth, none was ever condemned to death in Ashoka’s kingdom.

The gruesome end of arhat Veetashoka, however, intrigued some monks who asked the venerable Upagupta, the Buddha-without-sins, what he had done to deserve this. Upagupta answered that in days long gone by there was a hunter who used to make a living by catching animals in a snare laid beside the water hole. Once, a Pratyekabuddha (a Buddha without signs) stopped there to rest. Because of his presence, no animals came near and the hunter found his snare empty. Angry with the Pratyekabuddha, he slew him on the spot. Veetashoka was this hunter in his earlier birth. Because he killed animals, he fell very ill and, for killing the Pratyekabuddha, he was reborn innumerable times to die each time by the sword.

The monks again asked Upagupta to explain why, then, had Veetashoka been born a royal prince. Upagupta explained that in the time of Buddha Kaashyapa, one Pradanaruchi joined the monks and inspired generous people to donate freely to the community. Because of him, the stupas were richly decorated, worshipped and well looked after. This ensured Pradanaruchi’s birth as Veetashoka, in the royal family.  

– Pradip Bhattacharya
April 23, 2002

3. This reminds us of the similar contraption and the Nagas that Garuda had to overcome in the Mahabharata for wresting amrita from the gods.

Top | History of India     

Recommend This Page!

Analysis | Architecture | Astrology | Ayurveda | Book Reviews | Buddhism | Cartoons | Cinema | Computing | Culture | Dances
Environment | Fables | Family Matters | Festivals | Hinduism | Health | History | Home Remedies | Humor | Individuality | Jagoji
Literary Shelf | Memoirs | Musings | Opinion | Parenting | Perspective | Photo Essays | Places | Ramblings
Random Thoughts | Recipes | Sikhism | Society | Spirituality | Stories | Teens | Travelogues | Vastu | Vithika | Women

Home | Hindi | Bolography | BoloKids | Kabir | Poetry | Quotes | Workshop | Writers | Contribute | Search | Contact

Boloji.com is owned and managed by Boloji Media Inc
Privacy Policy | Disclaimer
No part of this Internet site may be reproduced without prior written permission of the copyright holder.