Jataka 346
Kesava Jātaka
The Story of Kesava
as told by Eric Van Horn
originally translated by H.T. Francis and R.A. Neil, Cambridge University
originally edited by Professor Edward Byles Cowell, Cambridge University
The poetry in this story is especially lovely. Take note particularly of the last stanza.
“You that of late.” The Master told this story while he was at Jetavana. It is about the Feast of Friendship.
In the house of Anāthapiṇdika, they say, 500 monks were supported. The house was continually a place of refuge for the Saṇgha. It was bright with the sheen of their yellow robes and blessed with the smell of saintly odors.
One day the King was making a solemn procession around the city. He saw the assembly of monks in the Treasurer’s house and thought, “I, too, will grant alms to the Saṇgha.” He went to the monastery, and after greeting the Master, he granted alms for 500 monks. Thereafter there was a perpetual giving of alms in the King’s house. There was choice rice with the perfume of the rain upon it. But none of it was given with the King’s own hands, with marks of affection and love. It was the King’s ministers who dispensed the food. The monks did not care to sit down and eat it. Rather they took the various delicacies and went to the houses of their own retainers. They gave them the food, and they themselves ate whatever was set before them, whether it was coarse or delicate.
Now one day wild fruit was brought to the King. The King said, “Give it to the Saṇgha.”
They went to the common room that was used for meals. It was empty. They went and told the King, “There is not a single monk there.”
“What, is it not time yet?” said the King.
“Yes it is time,” they said, “but the monks take the food in your house, and then go to the residence of their trusted supporters. They give the food to them, and they eat whatever is served up to them, whether it be coarse or delicate.”
The King said, “Our food is delicate. Why in the world do they abstain from ours and eat some other food?” And thinking, “I will ask the Master,” he went to the monastery and asked him.
The Master said, “The best food is that which is given in love. Owing to the absence of those who give in love, the monks take the food and eat it in some friendly place of their own. There is no flavor, sire, equal to that of love. That which is given without love, even if it is composed of the four sweet things, is not worth so much as wild rice given with love. Wise men of old, when sickness arose among them, even though the king provided remedies, went to their friends. And by eating broth of wild rice and millet, without salt, or even leaves without salt, sprinkled with water only, were healed of their sickness.” And with these words he told them a story of the past.
Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born into a brahmin family in the kingdom of Kāsi. They called him young Kappa. When he came of age, he mastered all the arts at Takkasilā University, and afterwards he adopted the holy life.
At this time there was a recluse named Kesava who was attended by 500 other ascetics. He was the teacher of this group of disciples, and he lived in the Himālayas. The Bodhisatta went to him and became the senior of the 500 pupils. He lived there and showed kindness and affection for Kesava, and they became very close with one another.
By and bye Kesava, accompanied by these recluses, went to Benares to obtain salt and vinegar. They took up residence in the King’s garden. On the next day he went into the city and arrived at the palace door. When the King saw the band of holy men, he invited them in and fed them in his own house. He exacted a promise from them to live in his garden.
When the rainy season was over, Kesava took leave of the King. The King said, “Holy sir, you are an old man. Why don’t you live here and send the young recluses to the Himālayas.” He agreed and sent them with the head disciple to the Himālayas. He himself was left behind, quite alone.
Kappa went to the Himālayas and lived there with the disciples. Kesava was unhappy about being deprived of the company of Kappa. In his longing to see him, he could not sleep, and because of losing his sleep, his food was not properly digested. A bloody discharge set in, followed by severe pains. The King had a medicine. He watched over the recluse, but his sickness did not abate.
The recluse asked the King, “Do you, sire, wish for me to die or to recover?”
“To recover, sir,” he answered.
“Then send me to the Himālayas,” he said.
“Agreed,” said the King. He sent for a minister named Nārada. He told him to take some foresters and take the holy man to the Himālayas. Nārada took him there, and then he returned home. At the mere sight of Kappa, Kesava’s disorder ceased and his unhappiness subsided. Kappa gave him broth made of millet and wild rice together with leaves sprinkled with water, without salt and spices, and at that very instant the dysentery disappeared.
The King again sent Nārada saying, “Go and learn how the recluse Kesava is doing.” He went, and finding him recovered, he said, “Reverend sir, the King of Benares treating you with his medicine, but he could not heal your sickness. How did Kappa treat you?” And then he uttered the first stanza:
You that of late with lord of men did dwell,
A King prepared to grant your heart’s desire,
What is the charm of Kappa’s hermit cell
That blessed Kesava should here retire?
Kesava on hearing this repeated the second stanza:
All here is charming, even the very trees
O Nārada, my fancy take,
And Kappa’s words that never fail to please
A grateful echo in my heart awake.
After these words he said, “Kappa, in order to please me, gave me broth to drink. It was made of millet and wild rice mixed with leaves sprinkled with water, and without salt and spices, and after that my bodily sickness left me and I was healed.”
Nārada, on hearing this, repeated the third stanza:
You that but now the purest rice did eat
Boiled with a dainty flavoring of meat,
How can you relish such insipid fare
And millet and wild rice with hermits share?
On hearing this Kesava uttered the fourth stanza:
The food may coarse or dainty prove,
May scanty be or much abound,
Yet if the meal is blessed with love,
Love the best sauce by far is found.
Figure: A meal blessed by love
Nārada on hearing his words returned to the King and told him what Kesava had said.
The Master, having ended his lesson, identified the birth: “At that time the King was Ānanda, Nārada was Sāriputta, Kesava was Bakabrahmā (a deity), and I was Kappa.”
