Jataka 442
Saṇkha Jātaka
The Story of Saṇkha
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
This is one of those wonderful fantastic stories that is typically Indian. In it, a goddess who has the charter to save those at sea who have great virtue, saves the Bodhisatta because of a gift of shoes that he gave to a Pacceka Buddha.
There is an interesting side note to this story. We see that the Bodhisatta can see the deity in the story, but his attendant cannot. This is true to this day. Some people can see devas, and some people cannot. Bhikku Bodhi says that when he was at the monastery in Sri Lanka, there was a valley next to it in which devas lived. Some of the monks could see them, and some monks could not.
“O learned brahmin.” The Master told this story at Jetavana. It is about giving the requisites (clothing, shelter, food, and medicine).
At Sāvatthi, it is said, a certain lay brother heard a discourse by the Tathāgata. It pleased his heart, so he invited the Master to his house for the following day. He set up a richly decorated pavilion at his door, and then sent word that it was time. The Master came attended by 500 monks. He sat in the gorgeous seat that had been prepared for him. The layman made rich presents to the company of monks headed by the Buddha. He invited them to come again on the next day. And so for seven days he hosted them and offered gifts, and on the seventh he gave them all a monk’s requisites.
In this presentation he offered a special gift of shoes. The pair of shoes offered to the Buddha were worth 1,000 gold coins. Those offered to the two Chief Disciples (Sāriputta and Moggallāna) were worth 500, and shoes with a value of 100 gold coins were given to each of the 500 monks who remained. And after this presentation of all that the monks needed, he sat down before the Blessed One along with his company. The Master returned thanks in a voice of great sweetness: “Layman, your gift is most generous. Be joyful. In days of old, before the Buddha came into the world, there were those who gave one pair of shoes to a Pacceka Buddha. Because of that gift, he found a refuge on the sea where no refuge was to be found. Now you have given all that a monk needs to the whole of the Buddha’s company. How can it be but that your gift of shoes should prove a refuge to you?” And at his request, he told this story from the past.
Once upon a time, Benares was named Molinī. While Brahmadatta reigned in Molinī as King, there was a certain brahmin named Saṅkha. He was rich and of great wealth. He had built alms halls in six places: one at each of the four city gates, one in the midst of it, and one by his own door. Every day he gave 6,000 gold coins in alms, and he gave a great deal to wayfarers and beggars.
One day he thought to himself, “Once my store of wealth is gone, I will have nothing to give. While I still have it, I will take a ship and sail for the Gold Country (perhaps Burma, Thailand, or Malaysia). From there I will bring back more wealth.” So he had a ship built and filled it with merchandise. Then he said farewell to his wife and child, saying, “Until I return, make sure that there is no interruption in the distribution of alms.” This said, he took up his sunshade, donned his shoes, and with his servants all around him, he set his face towards the seaport, and at midday, he departed.
At that moment, a Pacceka Buddha on Mount Gandha-mādana was meditating. He saw Saṅkha on his way to get wealth, and he thought, “A great man is journeying to get wealth. Will there be anything on the sea to hinder him? There will. If he sees me, he will present me with shoes and sunshade. And as a consequence of this gift of shoes, he will find refuge when his vessel is wrecked on the sea. I will help him.” So passing through the air, he landed not far from the traveler. He moved forward to meet him. He walked on the sand which was as hot as a layer of burning embers in the fierce wind and sunshine. “Here,” thought the brahmin, “is a chance to gain merit. Here I must sow a seed this day.” With great delight he hastened to meet and greet him. “Sir,” he said, “be so kind as to come aside from the road awhile. Sit here under this tree.” Then as the man came in under the tree, he brushed up the sand for him. He spread his upper robe on the ground and invited him to sit down. He purified and washed his feet with perfumed water. He anointed him with sweet scented oil. He took off the shoes from his own feet, wiped them clean, and anointed them with scented oil. Then he put them on him and presented him with his sunshade. He invited him to wear the shoes and spread the sunshade overhead as he went about his ways. To please him, the Pacceka Buddha took the gift, and as the brahmin gazed upon him to increase his faith, he flew up and went on his way again to Gandha-mādana.
This made the Bodhisatta glad at heart, and in this spirit he proceeded to the harbor and boarded the ship.
When they were on the high seas, on the seventh day the ship sprang a leak, and they could not bale the water clear. All the people were in fear for their lives. They made a great outcry, each of them calling out to his own god. The Great Being chose an attendant, and anointing his entire body with oil, he ate a mess of powdered sugar with ghee. He gave the man some of this to eat as well. Then he climbed up the mast. “In that direction,” he said, “lies our city.” And pointing out the direction and casting off all fear of the fish and turtles, he dived off the ship with the man to a distance of more than 150 cubits (about 69 meters). Many men perished but the Great Being and his servant began to make their way over the sea. For seven days he kept on swimming. And even then he kept the holy fast day, washing his mouth with the salt water.
Now at that time a divinity named Maṇimekhalā (a sea goddess who protects virtuous people from shipwrecks) had been commanded by the four lords of the world (devas), “If a shipwreck happens to men who have taken the Three Refuges or are endowed with virtue or who worship their parents, you should save them.” And to protect such people, the deity took station on the sea. For seven days she did not use her divine power, but on the seventh day, scanning the sea, she saw the virtuous brahmin Saṅkha. She thought, “It has been seven days since that man was cast into the sea. Were he to die, my blame would be great.” So—troubled at heart—the deity filled a golden plate full of divine meats, and hastening towards him like the wind, she stopped above him in midair, saying, “For seven days, brahmin, you have eaten no food. Take this!” The brahmin looked at her and replied, “Take your food away, for I am fasting.”
His attendant, who came up from behind, could not see the deity. He could only hear the sound. He thought, “The brahmin babbles, I think. Because of his slight build and from fasting for seven days, he is in pain and fear of death. I will comfort him.” And he repeated the first stanza:
“O learned brahmin, full of sanctity,
Pupil of many a holy teacher, why
All out of reason do vain babbling use,
When none is here, but me, to make reply?”
The brahmin heard this, and knowing that he had not seen the deity, he said, “Good fellow, I have no fear of death. But I have someone here with whom to converse.” And he repeated the second stanza:
“’Tis a fair being present, with gold-accent,
That offers me food for my nourishment,
All bravely set upon a plate of gold,
To her I answer ‘no,’ with heart content.”
Then the man repeated the third stanza:
“If such a wondrous being one should see,
A man should ask a blessing hopefully.
Arise, ask her, holding up clasped hands,
‘Say, are you human, or a deity?’”
“You speak well,” said the brahmin, and he asked this question by repeating the fourth stanza:
“As you entreat me in a kindly way
And ‘Take and eat this food’ to me do say,
I ask you, lady, excellent in might,
Are you a goddess, or a woman, pray?”
Thereupon the deity repeated two stanzas:
“A goddess excellent in might is me,
And to mid-ocean all this way did flee,
Full of compassion and in heart well-pleased,
For your sake come in this extremity.
“Here food, and drink, and place of rest behold,
Vehicles various and manifold.
You, Saṅkha, I make lord of everything
Which for any desire your heart may hold.”
On hearing this the Great Being thought, “Here is this deity in the middle of the ocean, offering me this thing and that thing. Why does she wish to offer them to me? Is it for any virtuous act of mine or by her own power that she does it? Well, I will ask the question.” And he asked it in the words of the seventh stanza:
“Of all my sacrifice and offering
You are the queen, and you the governing,
You of slender waist and beautiful bearing
What deed of mine now gives birth to this thing?”
The deity listened to him, thinking, “This brahmin has asked his question, I suppose, because he imagines I do not know what good deed he has done. I will just tell him.” So she told him, in the words of the eighth stanza:
“A solitary, on the burning way,
Weary and footsore, thirsty, you did stay,
O brahmin Saṅkha, for a gift of shoes,
That gift your horn of plenty is this day.”
Figure: The goddess and the Bodhisatta
When the Great Being heard this, he thought to himself, “What! In this impracticable ocean the gift of shoes has become a salvation to me! Ah, lucky was my gift to the Pacceka Buddha!” Then, in great contentment, he repeated the ninth stanza:
“A ship of planks well-built let it there be,
Sped by fair winds, impervious to the sea,
No place is here for other vehicle,
This very day take me to Molinī.”
The deity, well pleased at hearing these words, caused a ship to appear. It was eight hundred cubits (365 meters) in length. It was six hundred cubits (274 meters) in width. It was twenty fathoms deep (36 meters). It had three masts made of sapphire and cordage of gold. It had silver sails, and the oars and the rudders were also made of gold. The deity filled this vessel with the seven precious things (gold, silver, lapis lazuli, crystal, agate, pearl, and carnelian, which is a semi-precious stone). Then embracing the brahmin, she put him on board the gorgeous ship. She did not notice the attendant. However, the brahmin gave him a share of his own good fortune, and he rejoiced. The deity then embraced him as well, and put him on board the ship. Then she guided the ship to the city of Molinī, and having stored all this wealth in the brahmin’s house, she returned to her own place.
When the Master ended this discourse, he taught the Four Noble Truths, at the conclusion of which the layman entered upon the First Path (stream-entry). Then he identified the birth: “At that time Uppalavaṇnā was the deity, Ānanda was the attendant, and I was the Brahmin Saṅkha.”
(Uppalavaṇnā was one of the foremost of the Buddha’s nuns.)
