Jataka 445
Nigrodha Jātaka
The Story of Nigrodha
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 a story about gratitude. If you have been reading all of the Jātaka Tales, you know that this is a common theme in this collection as well as in the Buddha’s teaching. And I can tell you from personal experience that gratitude may be the single most important quality to have if you want to be a happy, contented person.
This story may be a later addition. It references to the “Three Baskets,” but at the time of the Buddha, there were only two baskets, the Sutta Pitaka and the Vinaya. The third basket, the Abhidhamma, was added centuries later.
“Who is the man?” The Master told this story at the Bamboo Grove. It is about Devadatta. One day the monks said to him, “Friend Devadatta, the Master is most helpful to you! You received your lower and higher ordination from the Master. You have learned the Three Baskets, the voice of Buddha. You have caused bliss to arise within you; the glory and gain of the Dasabala belong to you.” (Dasabala refers to the “ten powers”: 1) the power of knowing what is true and what is not, 2) the power of knowing karmic causality at work in the lives of all beings throughout past, present, and future, 3) the power of knowing all stages of concentration, emancipation, and meditation, 4) the power of knowing the conditions of life of all people, 5) the power of judging all people’s levels of understanding, 6) the power of discerning the superiority or inferiority of all people’s capacity, 7) the power of knowing the effects of all people’s actions, 8) the power of remembering past lifetimes, 9) the power of knowing when each person will be born and will die, and in what realm that person will be reborn, and 10) the power of eradicating all illusions.) At this he held up a blade of grass with the words, “I can see no good that the recluse Gotama has done for me, not even this much!” The monks talked this over in the Dharma Hall. When the Master came in, he asked what they were discussing as they sat together. They told him. He said, “Brothers, this is not the first time Devadatta was ungrateful and treacherous to friends. He did just the same long ago as now.” And he told them this story from the past.
Once upon a time a great monarch named Magadha reigned in Rājagaha. A merchant of that city brought home the daughter of some country merchant for his son’s wife. But she was barren. For this reason, over the course of time less respect was paid to her. They all talked so that she might hear: “While there is a barren wife in our son’s household, how can the family line be kept up?” As this talk kept coming to her ears, she said to herself, “Oh, well, I will pretend to be with child and trick them.” So she asked a good old nurse of hers, “What is it that women do when they are with child?” And being instructed on how to act, she concealed the time of her menstruation. She showed a preference for sour and strange tastes. At the time when the arms and legs were supposed to swell, she beat them until they grew swollen. Every day she bandaged her body with rags and cloths to make it appear bigger. She blackened the nipples of her breasts, and except for the nurse, she did not permit anyone to be present at her toilet. Her husband, too, showed her the attentions proper to her state. After nine months had passed in this fashion, she declared her wish to return home and bring forth her child in her father’s house. So taking leave of her husband’s parents, she mounted a carriage, and with a large number of attendants, she left Rājagaha behind her and proceeded along the road.
(It was the custom in India for a pregnant woman to return to her parents’ home to give birth.)
Now travelling in front of her was a caravan, and she always arrived at breakfast time to the place from where that caravan had just left. And one night, a poor woman in that caravan gave birth to a son under a banyan tree. And thinking that without the caravan she could not survive, she covered him up as he was and left him lying there at the foot of the banyan tree. The deity of the tree took care of him. He was no ordinary child, but it was the Bodhisatta himself who had come into the world in that form.
At breakfast time the other travelers arrived at the spot. The woman, with her nurse, went to the shade of the banyan tree for her toilet. There she saw a baby the color of gold lying there. Bye and bye she called out to the nurse that their objective had been achieved. She unwound the bandages from her loins and declared that the baby was her own, and that she had just given birth.
The attendants at once raised a tent to grant her some privacy. In great delight they sent a letter back to Rājagaha. Her husband’s parents wrote in reply that as the baby was born, there was no longer any need for her to go to her father’s house and that she should return. So back to Rājagaha she returned at once. There they acknowledged the baby. And when it came time to name the baby, they named him after the place where he was born, Nigrodha-Kumāra, or Master Banyan.
On that same day, the daughter-in-law of a merchant, who was on her way home to her father for the birth, brought forth a son beneath the branches of a tree. They named him Sākha-Kumāra, or Master Branch. And on the same day, the wife of a tailor in the employ of this merchant bore a son amidst his bits of cloth. And him they called Pottika, or Dollie.
The great merchant sent for these two children because they had been born on Master Banyan’s birthday, and he raised them together.
They all grew up together, and bye and bye they went to Takkasilā University to complete their education. Both the merchants’ sons had 2,000 gold coins to give to their teacher as his fee. Master Banyan provided Pottika with an education using his own position.
When their education had been completed, they took leave of their teacher and left him. They intended to learn the customs of the country people. And travelling on and on, in time they came to Benares. There they lay down to rest in a temple. It was the seventh day since the King of Benares had died. A proclamation was made throughout the city by the beat of drum that on the next the royal chariot would be prepared. The three comrades were lying under a tree asleep, when at dawn Pottika awoke. Some cocks were roosting on that tree, and the cock at the top let a dropping fall on a cock near the bottom. “What is it that fell on me?” asked this cock. “Do not be angry, sir,” he answered. “I did not mean to do it.” “Oh, so you think my body is a place for your droppings! You don’t know my importance, that is plain!” To this the other cock replied, “Oh, you are still angry even though I said that I did not mean it! And what is your importance, pray?” “Whoever kills me and eats my flesh will receive 1,000 gold coins this very morning! Is that not something of which to be proud?” “Oh, pooh,” said the other cock, “proud of a little thing like that! Why, if anyone kills me and eats of my fat, he will become a King this very morning. He that eats the middle flesh becomes Commander-in-Chief, and whoever eats the flesh about the bones, he will be treasurer!”
Pottika overheard all this. “A thousand gold coins,” he thought. “What is that? It is best to be a King!” So gently climbing the tree, he seized the cock that was roosting on top and killed it. He cooked it in some embers. He gave the fat to Banyan, the middle flesh to Branch, and he himself ate the flesh that was about the bones. When they had eaten, he said, “Banyan, sir, today you will be King. Branch, sir, you will be Commander-in-Chief. And as for me, I’m the treasurer!” They asked him how he knew, and he told them.
So about the time for the first meal of the day, they entered the city of Benares. At the house of a certain brahmin they received a meal of rice-porridge with ghee and sugar. And then—emerging from the city—they entered the royal park.
Banyan lay down on a slab of stone; the other two lay beside it. It so happened that at the moment they were just sending forth the ceremonial chariot with the five symbols of royalty (sword, parasol, diadem, slippers, fan) in it. (The details of this will be given in the Mahājanaka Birth, Jātaka 539.) The chariot rolled in, and stopping, it stood there ready for them to enter. “Some being of great merit must be present here!” thought the chaplain to himself. He entered the park and saw the young man. And then, removing the cloth from his feet, he examined the marks on them. “Why,” he said, “he is destined to be King of all India, let alone Benares!” and he ordered all the gongs and cymbals to strike up.
Just then waking, Banyan removed the cloth from his face. He saw a crowd assembled round him! He turned around and for a moment or two he lay still. Then he rose up and sat with his legs crossed. The chaplain fell on one knee, saying, “Divine being, the kingdom is yours!” “So be it,” said the youth. The chaplain placed him on a heap of precious jewels and annointed him to be King.
Having been made King, he gave the post of Commander-in-Chief to his friend Branch. Then he entered the city in great pomp, and Pottika went with them.
From that day onward the Great Being ruled righteously in Benares.
One day the memory of his parents came into his mind, and addressing Branch, he said, “Sir, it is impossible to live without father and mother. Take a large company of people and go fetch them.” But Branch refused. “That is none of my business,” he said. Then he told Pottika to do it. Pottika agreed, and making his way to Banyan’s parents, he told them that their son had become King. He begged them to come to him. But they declined, saying that they had power and wealth. Enough of that; they would not go. He then asked Branch’s parents to come, and they too preferred to stay. And when he invited his own parents, they said, “We live by tailoring. Enough, enough,” and they refused like the rest.
As he had failed to change their minds, he returned to Benares. Thinking that he would rest from the fatigue of the journey in the house of the Commander-in-Chief, before going to see Banyan, he went to that house.
“Tell the Commander-in-Chief,” he said to the door keeper, “that his friend Pottika is here.” The man did so. But Branch had a grudge against him because the man had given his comrade Banyan the kingdom instead of himself. So when he heard this message, he became angry. “Friend, indeed! Who is his friend? A mad baseborn peasant! Seize him!” So they beat him and kicked him and pummeled him with foot, knee, and elbow. Then grabbing him by the throat, and then they threw him out.
“Branch,” the man thought, “gained the post of Commander-in-Chief through me, and now he is ungrateful and malicious. He has beaten me and cast me out. But Banyan is a wise man. He is grateful and good. I will go to him.” So he went to the King’s door and sent a message to the King that Pottika, his friend, was waiting at the door. The King asked him in, and as he saw him approach, he rose up from his seat and went out to meet him. He greeted him with affection. He ordered him to be shaved and cared for and adorned with all manner of ornaments. Then he gave him rich meats of every sort to eat. When this was done, he sat graciously with him. He asked about his parents, who—as Pottika informed him—had refused to come.
Now Branch thought to himself, “Pottika will be slandering me in the King’s ear. But if I am nearby, he will not be able to speak.” So he also went to the King’s house. And Pottika, even in his presence, spoke to the King saying, “My lord, when I was weary with my journey, I went to Branch’s house hoping to rest there first and then to visit you. But Branch said, ‘I do not know him!’ He treated me brutally and threw me out by the neck! Can you believe it!” And with these words, he uttered three stanzas of verse:
“’Who is the man? I know him not! and the man’s father, who?
Who is the man?” so Sākha said, Nigrodha, what think you?
“Then Sākha’s men at Sākha’s word dealt pummels on my face,
And seizing me about the throat cast me forth from the place.
“That such a deed in treachery an evil man should do!
An ingrate is a shame, O King—and he your comrade, too!”
Figure: Sākha is disgraced
On hearing these, Banyan recited four stanzas:
“I know not, nor have ever heard in speech from any one,
Any such ill as this you tell which Sākha now has done.
“With me and Sākha you have lived, we both your comrades were,
Of this empire among mankind you gave us each a share,
We have by you got majesty, and not a doubt is there.
“As when a seed in fire is cast, it burns, and cannot grow,
Do a good turn to evil men, it perishes even so.
“The grateful, good, and virtuous, such men are not as they,
In good soil seeds, in good men deeds, are never thrown away.”
As Banyan was reciting these lines, Branch stood still where he was. Then the King asked him, “Well, Branch, do you recognize this man Pottika?” He was dumb. And the King laid his bidding upon the man in the words of the eighth stanza:
“Seize on this worthless traitor here, whose thoughts so evil be,
Spear him! For I would have him die—his life is nought to me!”
But Pottika, on hearing this, thought to himself, “Do not let this fool die for my sake!” and he uttered the ninth stanza:
“Great King, have mercy! Life once gone is hard to bring again.
My lord forgive, and let him live! I wish the fool no pain.”
When the King heard this, he forgave Branch. He wanted to bestow the place of Commander-in-Chief to Pottika, but he would not take it. Then the King gave him the post of Treasurer, and with it went the judgeship of all the merchant guilds. Before that no such office had existed, but this office existed forever after that. And bye and bye Pottika the Royal Treasurer, being blessed with sons and with daughters, uttered the last stanza for their admonition:
“With Nigrodha one should dwell,
To wait on Sākha is not well.
Better with Nigrodha death
Then with Sākha to draw breath.”
This discourse ended, the Master said, “So, brothers, you see that Devadatta was ungrateful in the past.” Then he identified the birth: “At that time, Devadatta was Sākha, Ānanda was Pottika, and I was Nigrodha.”
