The Buddha as an Epic Hero in Aśvaghoṣa’s Buddhacarita
Nibir
K. Ghosh & Sunita Rani Ghosh
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The paper makes an attempt to examine and
evaluate the life and personality of the ‘Enlighted One’ as depicted by
Asvaghosa in his immortal classic Buddhacarita, translated from Sanskrit
into English by the acclaimed Indologist Edward B. Cowell in 1894/1895.
Following the chronology of events beginning with the birth of the Buddha till
the moment of his attaining enlightenment under the holy tree, the paper emphasises
the epic grandeur of the heroic thoughts, experiences and utterances of the
principal protagonist who, distressed by the sights of old age, sickness and
death, makes a steadfast and unwavering commitment to liberate mankind from the
throes of unmitigated misery.
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The life of Buddha has an
especial appeal. All my life I have been very fond of Buddha. …I have more
veneration for that character than for any other—that boldness, that fearlessness,
and that tremendous love! He was born for the good of men. Others may seek God,
others may seek truth for themselves; he did not even care to know truth for
himself. He sought truth because people were in misery. How to help them, that
was his only concern. –
Swami Vivekananda (98)
Swami Vivekananda’s eloquent veneration for
Gautam Buddha lucidly resonates the admiration and esteem that Aśvaghoṣa (80-150 AD), the earliest
known Sanskrit poet and philosopher, has expressed in Buddhacarita, his
immortal creation celebrating the exemplary life of the Exalted One from the
time of his birth to his attainment of Enlightenment. A brahmin by birth who
later converted to Buddhism, Aśvaghoṣa became a true Buddhist in
flesh and spirit and sincerely followed the Eight-fold Noble Path initiated by
the Buddha. On account of his multi-sided genius, Aśvaghoṣa became a prominent figure
as a poet and spiritual counsellor in the reign of Kanishka, the Kushan Emperor
recognised in Indian History as a powerful ruler engaged not only in expanding
his empire but also in spreading the ideals of Buddhism. Inspired by Kanishka’s
patronage and encouragement and urged by his own devotion to the Buddha, many
of Aśvaghoṣa’s creative works viz. Buddhacarita,
Saundarānanda and Sāriputra-Prakaraṇa provide indelible imprints
of Lord Buddha on his astounding creative abilities. In Aśvaghoṣa, notes Roma Chaudhuri,
one can also find “many clear instances of a compassionate desire for
inspiring, teaching, helping, serving, reforming and uplifting others.”
(Chaudhuri 14)
The paper is an attempt to showcase the
heroism of the Buddha who, unlike other famous epic heroes who distinguish
themselves through their valour in battles and wars, amply justifies what we
learn from The Dhammapada that “If one man conquer in battle a thousand
times thousand men, and if another conquer himself, he is the greatest of
conquerors. … One's own self conquered is better than all other people; not
even a god, a Gandharva, not Mara with Brahman could change into defeat the
victory of a man who has vanquished himself, and always lives under restraint.”
(The Dhammapada Ch. VIII 103-105, p.15)
Aśvaghoṣa’s Mahakavya or epic poem The
Buddhacarita originally consisted of 28 cantos, of which the current
edition translated into English as well as edited by Edward B. Cowell offers 14
cantos. Each canto or book has a title to itself except the 14th. It
is important to bear in mind that the translator Edward B. Cowell (1826-1903)
was a distinguished Sanskrit scholar who had a long academic stint in India, as
Professor of English History at Presidency College, Calcutta and as Principal
of Sanskrit College, Calcutta before he joined as the first professor of
Sanskrit at Cambridge University in 1868, a position he held until his death in
1903.
Book I, titled “The Birth of the Holy One,”
opens in the city named Kapilavastu, after the great sage Kapila, under the
rule of the Sakya King Suddhodana, “the very best of kings … intent on
liberality yet devoid of pride; a sovereign, yet with an ever equal eye thrown
on all.” (Bk. I/ 10) Peace and prosperity reign supreme in the reign of
Suddhodana distinguished by “its pure and lofty system of government,”
inhabited by “surpassingly excellent citizens,” and “numberless councillors of
exalted wisdom.” (Bk.I/3,4,14) Suddhodana’s companion in life, Queen Maya, is
portrayed as “a mother to her subjects, intent on their welfare, … shining on
her lord’s family like the goddess of prosperity.” (Bk.I/16) The birth of the
Buddha is occasioned by divine dispensation when he enters, as a sudden
thought, into the womb of the noble queen to “destroy the evils of the world.”
(Bk. I/16) Then, one day, when the queen visits the garden at Lumbini, while
she supported herself by a bough laden with a weight of flowers, “the
Bodhisattva suddenly came forth, cleaving open her womb.” (Bk.I/24) It was a
moment of great rejoicing for all in the kingdom as the newborn prince, “with
glory, fortitude, and beauty … shone like the young sun descended upon the
earth.” (Bk.I/31)
The arrival of the great seer Asita on the
occasion gladdened king Suddhodana’s heart when he told the King that the
motive for his coming was to share the happy tidings that his son was born “for
the sake of supreme knowledge.” On hearing this, the king in his joy showed the
prince to Asita who instantly noticed the prince’s “foot marked with a wheel,
his fingers and toes webbed, with a circle of hair between his eyebrows, and
signs of vigour like an elephant.” (Bk. I/65) Asita’s eyes filled with tears on
seeing these auspicious signs emblematic of divinity. Asita’s tearful eyes disturbed
the king with fearful thoughts. Asita put the king’s anxiety to rest by
assuring him that there was no cause for worry as the prince had been born as
the saviour of the world steeped in misery:
this child is now born, — he who knows that
mystery hard to attain, the means of destroying birth. … Having forsaken his
kingdom, indifferent to all worldly objects, and having attained the highest
truth by strenuous efforts, he will shine forth as a sun of knowledge to
destroy the darkness of illusion in the world.” (Bk.I/73-74) …. He will
proclaim the way of deliverance to those afflicted with sorrow, entangled in
objects of sense, and lost in the forest-paths of worldly existence, as to
travellers who have lost their way. (Bk.I/77).
These words of the great sage brought relief
to the king and queen and filled everyone with joy in the kingdom.
Book II – Life in the Palace – gives a vivid
account of the formative years of the prince who was named Sarvārthasiddha – an
accomplisher of all objects. All things that could please the senses of the
child were readily made available to him in the protected environment of the
palace. As it is said that “the childhood shows the man,/ As morning shows the
day,” (Milton ll.176-177) the prince gave indications of his extraordinary
traits. As he progressed from childhood to middle youth, he learned the
sciences in a matter of days what others would need years to master. With
perfect self-control, he “subdued by firmness the restless horses of the
senses; and he surpassed his kindred and citizens by his virtues.” (Bk.II/34)
He pursued such knowledge as was beneficent to “all mankind as much as to his
own subjects” (Bk.II/35) and found bliss in calmness and compassion. He sought
glory not in terms of worldly achievements but that came from virtue.
In due course of time, King Suddhodana chose
for the prince “from a family of unblemished moral excellence a bride possessed
of beauty, modesty, and gentle bearing, of wide-spread glory, Yaśodharā by name, having a name
well worthy of her, a very goddess of good fortune” (Bk.II/26). The prince
married Yaśodharā and begat by her a
beautiful son named Rahul. To safeguard the prince from any situation or sight
that might distress him, King Suddhodana created, in the inner recesses of the
palace, an abode for them where the prince would experience worldly bliss of
all kinds.
Though king Suddhodana did his utmost to
shield his son from any untoward experiences of life, the prince’s destiny
intervened in unusual ways to draw him away from the golden cage of sensual and
material pleasures towards his ordained path. Book III of Aśvaghoṣa’s Buddhacarita
brings to light “the Prince’s Perturbation” in facing the inevitable. Having
heard of beautiful groves and gardens in the kingdom, the prince shares with
his father his desire to go there. The king gives his consent with much
reluctance and instructs his officers to ensure that the pathways should be
made clear of “all those who had mutilated limbs or maimed senses, the decrepit
and the sick and all squalid beggars” (Bk.III/5) so that the prince would see
nothing but joyous sights on his tour.
For a while, things seemed to go as the king
had planned but then, writes Aśvaghoṣa, “the gods, dwelling in
pure abodes, having beheld that city thus rejoicing like heaven itself, created
an old man to walk along on purpose to stir the heart of the king’s son.”
(Bk.III/26) Bewildered by the sight of the old man, the Prince turned to his
charioteer and asked him, “Who is this man that has come here … with white hair
and his hand resting on a staff, his eyes hidden beneath his brows, his limbs
bent down and hanging loose, — is this a change produced in him or his natural
state or an accident?” (Bk.III/28) Without mincing words, the charioteer made
him aware that old age was an inevitable part of life that causes sorrow by
destroying beauty, vigour, delight, memories, and comes as the enemy of the
senses. He further told the Prince that old age would come “even to my
long-lived lord” by the force of time and through passage of years. It was a
fact known to all without exception. With his sight fixed on the predicament of
the old man, the Prince uttered with a sigh: “Old age thus strikes down all
alike, our memory, comeliness, and valour; and yet the world is not disturbed,
even when it sees such a fate visibly impending.” (Bk.III/36) Consequently, the
Prince instructed his charioteer to return home for he saw the futility of rejoicing
in the pleasure-garden with the thoughts of old age overpowering him.
(Bk.III/37)
As a sequel to the event of the Prince
witnessing the ravages of old age, the same deities created two other
situations where he came face to face first with another man with his body all
afflicted by disease and then with the body of a dead man carried by others on
the road. These three sights filled the heart and mind of the Prince with a
foreboding dread of coming to terms with the inevitable and he bemoaned, “how
can a rational being, who knows what destruction is, stay heedless here, in the
hour of calamity?” (Bk.III/60)
Book IV – The Women Rejected – shows how the
Prince, perturbed by the occurrence of old age, disease and death, withstands
the snares of beautiful, sensuous and erotic women who are given the task by
the wise son of the King’s family priest, Udāyin. However, despite all their efforts –
shown through numerous ensnaring postures and amorous situations – the Prince
remains unmoved and concludes: “I do not despise worldly objects, I know that
all mankind are bound up therein; but remembering that the world is transitory,
my mind cannot find pleasure in them” (Bk.IV/85) … “even though this beauty of
women were to remain perpetual, still delight in the pleasures of desire would
not be worthy of the wise man.” (Bk.IV/87)
Book V – Flight – provides a comprehensive
account of the supreme rationality with which the Prince, undeterred by the
objects of pleasure and transient delights, decides to undertake his journey
with the firm resolve of seeking salvation from the sorrows of old age,
sickness and death not for himself alone but for all mankind. Longing for
eternal peace, he mounts his horse Kaṁthaka and sets out, with his father’s
permission, to the glades of the forest. He stopped by at a spot of land in the
forest-outskirts where he saw men ploughing the land. He quickly observed how
the movement of the plough had scattered and torn the grass on the ground that
lay covered with “the eggs and young of little insects which were killed.”
(Bk.V/5) The scene filled him with deep sorrow as he identified the slaughter
of even the insects akin to that of his own kindred.
Thus “meditating on the origin and
destruction of the world,” he laid “hold of the path that leads to firmness of
mind” (Bk.V/9) and reflected with controlled calm at the irony of life: “it is
a miserable thing that mankind, though themselves powerless and subject to
sickness, old age, and death, yet, blinded by passion and ignorant, look with
disgust on another who is afflicted by old age or diseased or dead.” (Bk.V/12)
While the Prince was engaged in such
contemplation, there came upon the place an ascetic in a beggar’s dress. When
the Prince asked him who he was, the man answered that he had become an ascetic
to seek liberation from the pangs of birth and death. The “heavenly
inhabitant,” who had come dressed as a beggar, then tells the Prince: “Dwelling
anywhere, at the root of a tree, or in an uninhabited house, a mountain or a
forest, — I wander without a family and without hope, a beggar ready for any
fare, seeking only the highest good.” (Bk.V/19) Aśvaghoṣa describes how, inspired by the ideal of
aspiring for the “highest good” by the heavenly visitation, the “foremost of
men was rejoiced and astonished; and having comprehended the meaning of the
term dharma, he set his mind on the manner of the accomplishment of
deliverance.” (Bk.V/21) Resolved as to the course of his future path, the
Prince returns home with “no feelings of longing” or desire and proceeds to
meet King Suddhodana to apprise him of his intention. He tells the King with
folded hands, “Grant me graciously thy permission, O lord of men, — I wish to
become a wandering mendicant for the sake of liberation, since separation is
appointed for me.” (Bk.V/28)
Shocked by his son’s entreaty, King
Suddhodana uses all reasoning at his command to dissuade him from his decision.
He reminds his son that the ways of penance and suffering related to a life of
religion was not for the young in their prime of life but for the old who had
fulfilled their obligation to their responsibilities as householders. He also
points out that it would be most unbecoming and irreligious on his part to
leave his own father and depart for the forest. Consequently, he tells his son
to abandon his resolution and attend to his duties as a householder for
“penance-forest” was suitable for those who had fully enjoyed the pleasures of
their prime. Having heard the King’s arguments, the Prince answered with all
softness at his command:
If thou wilt be my surety, O king, against
four contingencies, I will not betake myself to the forest. … Let not my life
be subject to death, and let not disease impair this health of mine; let not
old age attack my youth, and let not misfortune destroy my weal. (Bk.V/34,35)
It is heroic indeed for one who is deeply
troubled even by the killing of an insect to stand up against his own father
not with any degree of arrogance of an aberrant son but with abundant humility
of one who believes in the sanctity of his passionless commitment to find
salvation for entire mankind. Yet, the king, seeing his son’s firm resolve,
finally tells him, “Abandon this idea bent upon departure; extravagant desires
are only ridiculous.” In turn, the Prince retorts: “If this is impossible, then
this course of mine is not to be hindered; it is not right to lay hold of one
who would escape from a house that is on fire.” (Bk.V/36,37)
Agitated by his son’s determination, the King
exclaimed, “He shall not go!” and set
guards round him and the highest pleasures.” (Bk.V/39) The highest pleasures
that were used to entice the Prince involved the women of the palace who did
all they could to lure him with their charms. The Prince remained unmoved scorning
at the folly of transient desires and remained fixed in his mind about seeking
the “bliss of the highest end.” (Bk.V/46) He desired to escape from the worldly
shackles of the palace in the night. The King’s orders to restrain him proved
futile as, “the gods, knowing his purpose, caused the door of the palace to fly
open.” (Bk.V/66)
He summoned his horse’s attendant, Chaṁdaka, and asked him to
quickly bring his horse, Kaṁthaka,
as he had decided to leave the palace immediately. He mounted his faithful
steed and embarked on his journey to seek immortality for the good of the
world. The heavy gates and bars “which could be with difficulty opened even by
elephants, flew open of their own accord without noise, as the prince went
through.” (Bk.V/82) Leaving without hesitation his dear father, his young son,
and the people who adored him, he looked back at the city and vowed: “Till I
have seen the further shore of birth and death I will never again enter the
city called after Kapila.” (Bk.V/84)
Book VI – The Dismissal of Chaṁdaka – narrates the
poignant tale of the Prince bidding goodbye to Chaṁdaka and the horse Kaṁthaka once they reach the
forest. Chaṁdaka
is full of grief to be parting from his lord for whom he has unqualified
devotion and esteem. With calm of mind all passion spent the Prince attempts to
make him understand that all human relationships are governed by selfish
motives and that there is “no such a thing as unselfishness without a motive.”
(Bk.VI/10) The Prince tries to console the grieving Chaṁdaka by telling him that he
has chosen the path of the ascetic with the purpose of finding a way “to
destroy old age and death, — with no thirst for heaven, with no lack of love
nor feeling of anger.” (Bk.VI/15) He says that he has fixed his mind on
liberation from the repeated severance of relationships. It is evident that the
Prince’s words are also meant to be shared with his father, King Suddhodana,
who finds it difficult to reconcile himself with the reason that has taken his
son away from him. The Prince says, “Even if I through affection were not to
abandon my kindred in my desire for liberation, death would still make us
helplessly abandon one another.” (Bk.VI/44) Before the final moment of parting,
the Prince reiterates his steadfast resolve to be conveyed to the King: “Either
he will quickly come back, having destroyed old age and death; or else he will
himself perish, having failed in his purpose and lost hold of every support.”
(Bk.VI/52)
Book VII – Entry into the Penance Grove –
describes how, after parting with Chaṁdaka and Kaṁthaka, the Prince enters the Penance Grove in
the hermitage where he sees different kinds of penance practised by various
ascetics. He is informed by one of the ascetics that by enduring such penances
they are said to attain heaven who practice extreme severity while the less
severe try to find happiness in pain. The Prince, witnessing such exercises,
found no lofty truth in the measures and uttered to himself: “The penance is
full of pain and of many kinds, and the fruit of the penance is mainly heaven
at its best, and all the worlds are subject to change; verily the labour of the
hermitages is spent for but little gain.” (Bk.VII/20) In his rational view such
superstitious assumptions of attaining heaven through mortification of flesh
and suffering seem totally illusory as is evident from his thought: “Some
undergo misery for the sake of this world, others meet toil for the sake of
heaven; all living beings, wretched through hope and always missing their aim,
fall certainly for the sake of happiness into misery.” (Bk.VII/24)
Rather than practice austerity and cause pain
to the body, the Prince has come to understand that what alone is significant
is to “control the thought” because “without the thought the body is like a
log.” (Bk.VII/27) He finds it ridiculous when people sprinkle holy water on
themselves at some so-called ‘sacred’ spot to purify their actions for,
according to him, waters can not wash away sin.: “The water which has been
touched by the virtuous, — that is the spot, if you wish for a sacred spot on
the earth; therefore I count as a place of pilgrimage only the virtues of a
virtuous man, — water without doubt is only water.” (Bk.VII/31)
Thus, comprehending the whole nature of
penances after being in the grove for a few days, he decides to make his exit. He
gently but firmly tells the ascetics the reason for his departure from their
midst: “this devotion of yours is for the sake of heaven, — while my desire is
that there may be no fresh birth; therefore I wish not to dwell in this wood;
the nature of cessation is different from that of activity.” (Bk.VII/4)
Meanwhile, an ascetic, who lay submerged in
ashes clothed in bark turned to him with a lifted voice and praised him for
being so concerned at such a young age about the evils of birth and the need
for liberation: “By all those various sacrifices, penances and vows the slaves
of passion desire to go to heaven; but the strong, having battled with passion
as with an enemy, desire to obtain liberation.”
(Bk.VII/53) The ascetic then advises that the Prince should go to Viṁdhyakoṣṭha and meet the Muni Arāḍa who has an insight into
absolute bliss. From the Muni the Prince could learn the path to truth and
embrace it if he so desires. However, he foresees that the journey of the
Prince would not end there for he would keep searching till he has drunk up “the
entire ocean of what is to be known.” … “That unfathomed depth which
characterises thee, that majesty and all those signs of thine, — they shall win
a teacher’s chair in the earth which was never won by sages even in a former
age.” (Bk.VII/56-57)
Book VIII – Lamentations in the Palace –
offers a vivid description of the pall of gloom that surrounds the Kingdom of
Kapilavastu after Chaṁdaka
with the horse Kaṁthaka
returns to narrate the tale of the Prince’s departure in quest of the ultimate
truth. Crowds of people with tear-filled eyes bemoaned the absence of the
Prince. No less sorrowful was the predicament of men and women in the palace.
The principal Queen Gautami “like a fond cow that has lost her calf, fell
bursting into tears on the ground with outstretched arms” (Bk.VIII/24); she was
pained to imagine how the one who was accustomed to all comfort, luxury and
care had chosen the extremely difficult path of austerity and sacrifice: “He
who was proud of his family, goodness, strength, energy, sacred learning,
beauty, and youth, – who was ever ready to give, not to ask, – how will he go
about begging alms from others?” (Bk.VIII/57)
The Prince’s wife Yaśodharā who seemed inconsolable
gave vent to her anger by asking Chaṁdaka how could the Prince justify choosing
the religious path by abandoning his own lawful wife? She wonders whether he
has deserted her in the “hope to obtain heavenly nymphs in lndra’s world!”
(Bk.VIII/64) Reminded of her little son Rāhula’s fate, she reacts in pain: “is this
poor Rāhula
never to roll about in his father’s lap?” …
“Alas! the mind of that wise hero is terribly stern, — gentle as his
beauty seems, it is pitilessly cruel, — who can desert of his own accord such
an infant son with his inarticulate talk, one who would charm even an enemy.” (Bk.VIII/67,68)
Aśvaghoṣa compares King Suddhodana’s grief,
occasioned by separation from his son, with that of “Daśaratha, a prey to his
sorrow for Rāma.”
(Bk.VIII/81) The King’s wise counsellor and the old family priest tried to
console the King by reminding him of sage Asita’s prophecy at the birth of his
son and reassured the King that they would make all efforts to persuade the
Prince to return. With the King’s consent the two leave for the forest to meet
and talk to the Prince.
Book IX – The Deputation to the Prince – describes the meeting of the counsellor and
the family priest to the abode of the sage Bhārgava to meet the Prince. There they are told
that the Prince had come there but recognising that "this dharma only
brings us back again," (Bk.IX/6) he had proceeded to Arāḍa for seeking liberation.
As they moved forward they saw the Prince, bereft of all ornaments yet shining
in his majestic glory, “sitting like a king in the road at the foot of a tree,
like the sun under the canopy of a cloud.”
(Bk.IX/8) After the two paid him due honour and sat down near him, the
family priest apprised him of the King’s unmitigated sorrow and shared what he
had asked them to convey: that he should abandon this purpose for the sake of
duty… and return to enjoy for a while “the sovereignty of the earth” and that
he may “go to the forest at the time provided by the śāstras.” (Bk.IX/15,17,18)
After conveying the King’s utterances
touching on the calls of duty, compassion, and religious obligation, they asked
him to reconsider his resolve in the manner of the epic heroes of the past like
Bhīṣma and
Rāma, who were universally
known to have pleased their fathers at the cost of their personal preferences.
In addition to telling him of the King’s desire, they also remind him of his
duty and responsibility to the queen, his wife Yaśodharā and his son Rahul. Listening to the words of
the family priest, the Prince gently brings to their attention all the
counter-arguments he is truly convinced of. He made them aware that though he
had every respect for the paternal tenderness, he was inevitably forced to
forsake his kindred to find a solution to the alarms of “sickness, old age, and
death” (Bk.IX/31) and that he cannot be held responsible for causing the King
so much sadness through their separation since “neither a son nor kindred is
the cause of sorrow, – this sorrow is only caused by ignorance.” (Bk.IX/34)
In his view, he points out, since parting is
inevitable for humankind, separation for the sake of dharma and the good of all
must be embraced. It may be befitting for kings to leave their kingdoms and
enter the forest in the desire for dharma, but it is not fitting to break one’s
vow and forsaking the forest to go to one’s home,” (Bk.IX/44) emphasizes the
Prince. He reiterates that he has not gone to the forest with “an undecided
mind,” but once he has cut through “the net known as home and kindred I am freed
and have no intention of re-entering the net." (Bk.IX/51)
Despite the profound logic of the Prince’s
utterances, the King’s emissaries continue to convince him that “it is no sin
to return from a hermitage to one’s home, if it be only for the sake of duty.”
(Bk.IX/61) Unmoved in his resolve about the path he has chosen, the Prince
declares with perfect calm and equanimity that he would never return home as “a
man of the world, with no knowledge of the truth.” (Bk.IX/68) Thus,
disappointed in the failure of their mission to change the steadfast resolution
of the Prince, the two emissaries return to Kapilavastu wondering how they would
face the King.
Book X – Śreṇya’s Visit – begins by describing that the
Prince crossed the Ganges and went to Rajgrha, the city full of palaces and
auspicious sacred places. There he was greeted by one and all who saw him with
deep reverence on account of his majestic graceful appearance “so worthy of
ruling the earth and yet wearing a mendicant’s dress.” (Bk.X/9) Seeing from his
palace the assembly of people attracted to him, Śreṇya (Sanskrit name for Bimbisāra), the King of Magadhas, desires
to meet him. Once face-to-face with the Bodhisattva, Śreṇya offers his greetings and
salutations and asks him about the reason for his choice of a “mendicant’s
life” over the rule of a “kingdom.” Like others who had approached the Prince
before with similar arguments, Śreṇya tells him that his hands
that are “fit to protect subjects,” “deserve not to hold food given by
another.” (Bk.X/24) He goes further to say that if the Prince has, in his
generosity, no desire for his father’s kingdom, he was free to accept half of Śreṇya’s kingdom. He emphasizes
that youth is meant for pleasure and old age for the practice of religion. And
if at all religion is his sole aim then he could emulate the family’s custom of
attaining the highest heaven through “sacrifices” as even God Indra had done:
“royal sages have reached the same goal by sacrifices which great sages reached
by self-mortification.” (Bk.X/40) The book ends with the author’s statement:
“the prince did not falter, (firm) like the mountain Kailāsa.” (Bk.X/41)
Book XI – The Passions Spurned – brings into
bold relief the counter-arguments offered by the Prince in response to King Śreṇya’s viewpoints. He
reaffirms that his journey on the path for liberation, occasioned by the dread
of old age and death, has enabled him to leave behind his kindred after much
deliberation. To him what others call worldly pleasures are the root cause of
evil: “There is no calamity in the world like pleasures, — people are devoted
to them through delusion; when he once knows the truth and so fears evil, what
wise man would of his own choice desire evil?” (Bk.X1/11) According to him, “the nature of pleasure and
pain are mixed,” be it due to royalty or slavery for “a king does not always
smile, nor is a slave always in pain.” (Bk.XI/44) The ambitious rulers
who are out to conquer the whole earth ought to understand that “one city only
can serve as a dwelling-place, and even there only one house can be inhabited.”
(Bk.XI/47) As for the desire for countless robes of clothes, all one needs
is “one pair of garments … and just enough food to keep off hunger; so
only one bed, and only one seat; all a king’s other distinctions are only for
pride.” (Bk.XI/47,48) The Prince continues and says, “if all these fruits are
desired for the sake of satisfaction, I can be satisfied without a kingdom; and
if a man is once satisfied in this world, are not all distinctions
indistinguishable?” (Bk.XI/49)
Referring to King Śreṇya’s view that the Prince’s
hands were not meant for begging alms, he gently asserts: “He who lives on
alms, my good friend, is not to be pitied, having gained his end and being set
on escaping the fear of old age and death; he has here the best happiness,
perfect calm, and hereafter all pains are for him abolished.” (Bk.XI/54) He
tells King Śreṇya that his ultimate goal is
to discover a path wherein “there is no old age nor fear, no birth, nor death,
nor anxieties, that alone I consider the highest end of man, where there is no
ever-renewed action.” (Bk.XI/59)
Finally, the Prince addresses the option of
serving religion and gaining the highest heaven through the ritual of
sacrifices that King Śreṇya had mentioned. He boldly
proclaims that he desires “not that fruit which is sought by causing pain to
others!” He shows his abhorrence for even the highest reward that is attained
“only by slaughter” because, in his opinion, “To kill a helpless victim through
a wish for future reward, — it would be an unseemly action for a
merciful-hearted good man, even if the reward of the sacrifice were eternal;
but what if, after all, it is subject to decay?” (Bk.XI/65) No happiness, he
avers, that comes through “the injury of another” can be of any worth to “the
wise compassionate heart.” (Bk.XI/67) The Prince then informs King Śreṇya of his intention to meet
the seer Arāḍa who
proclaims liberation. Forthwith, he takes leave of King Śreṇya asking to be forgiven
for his utterances which may have seemed “harsh” due to “their absolute freedom
from passion.” (Bk.XI/69)
Book XII – Visit to Arāḍa – On his arrival at the
hermitage of sage Arāḍa, the
Prince is given a warm welcome. It gladdens the Prince to hear sage Arāḍa say, “thou art a worthy
vessel to receive this highest religion; having mastered it with full
knowledge, cross at once over the sea of misery.” (Bk.XII/9) Thanking sage Arāḍa for his generous words,
the Prince conveys that the gesture of kindness made him feel, despite his
imperfections, “seem even already to have attained perfection.” … “I feel at the sight of thee like one longing
to see who finds a light, — like one wishing to journey, a guide, — or like one
wishing to cross, a boat.” (Bk.XII/12,13) With courtesy and deference, the
Prince asks him, “Wilt thou therefore deign to tell me that secret, if thou
thinkest it should be told, whereby thy servant may be delivered from old age,
death, and disease.” (Bk.XII/14)
Impressed by the noble demeanour of the
Prince, sage Arāḍa
instantly agrees to impart the main tenets of his doctrine. According to his
doctrine the cause of “mundane existence” lies in “Ignorance, the merit or
demerit of former actions, and desire” (Bk.XII/23) while “egoism” lies in
attitudes that harp on “I say," "I know," "I go,"
"I am firmly fixed." (Bk.XII/26) He appreciates that the Prince’s
wisdom and his ability to discriminate allows him to be free from both
ignorance and egoism. He strikes a resonant chord in the Prince when he says,
“‘Uttering ‘namas’ and ‘vaṣaṭ,’ sprinkling water upon
sacrifices, with or without the recital of Vedic hymns, and such like rites, —
these are declared by the wise to be ‘false means,’ O thou who art well skilled
in true means.” (Bk.XII/30) It is only he who remains unentangled “in external
objects through his mind, speech, actions, and thoughts,” can aspire to ascend
to the path of liberation. (Bk.XII/31) Man is borne downwards into new births
and misery when he lives in false assumptions like "This is mine,"
"I am connected with this" etc. or … “I am the seer, and the hearer,
and the thinker, — the effect and the cause.” (Bk.XII/32,38)
After hearing this discourse the Prince
requests the seer for his guidance about the goal and limitations of the
“sacred study.” The seer explains “how fear arises from passion and the highest
happiness from the absence of passion” and one must learn to restrain all the
senses for attaining tranquillity of mind.” (Bk.XII/46-48) This is the first
stage of contemplation that takes the devotee to “the world of Brahman,
deceived by the delight.” (Bk.XII/51) For a wise man who is not satisfied by
this stage of contemplation that may still “bewilder the mind” (Bk.XII/52), the
seer suggests the second stage of contemplation where the devotee notices “no
further distinction” and “obtains a dwelling full of light” among the “Ābhāsura deities.” (Bk.XII/53) In the seer’s
view, if one still “separates his mind from this pleasure and ecstasy” has to
go for the third stage of contemplation that is “ecstatic but without
pleasure.” (Bk.XII/53) However, a man aspiring for still higher wisdom that is
distinct from all pleasure or pain has to seek the fourth stage of
contemplation that leads to the state of the “supreme Brahman, constant,
eternal, and without distinctive signs; which the wise who know reality declare
to be liberation.” (Bk.XII/65) Pondering on the discourse of sage Arāḍa, the Prince examined the
contents in the light of his desire for deliverance and concluded: “Even though
the pure soul is declared to be ‘liberated,’ yet as long as the soul remains
there can be no absolute abandonment of it.” (Bk.XII/71)
Not content with the doctrine of sage Arāḍa, the Prince proceeded to
the hermitage of sage Udraka. However, Udraka, who did not offer any clear
understanding about the treatment of the soul and the way to its complete
abandonment, the Prince “fully resolved in his purpose, and seeking final
bliss,” moved to the hermitage of the royal sage Gaya.” (Bk.XII/87)
There on the bank of the river Nairañjanā, the Prince sought a lonely habitation to
seek what the two teachers, Arāḍa and
Udraka, could not provide him. Then he saw five mendicants, who had preceded
him, engage themselves in practicing austerities by controlling their five
senses. These five mendicants then approached him with great esteem and
humility. Thinking “this may be the means of abolishing birth and death,” he at
once began “a series of difficult austerities by fasting.” (Bk.XII/91) Engaged
totally in “self-mortification,” he performed many rules of abstinence” for six
years with no food except a single jujube fruit, sesame seeds, and a grain of
rice.
Thus emaciated and famished, his body was
reduced to skin and bone although “he still shone with undiminished grandeur
like the ocean.” (Bk.XII/96) Drained of physical strength by his austerities
and dreading continued existence in that state, the realization dawned on him
that “This is not the way to passionlessness, nor to perfect knowledge, nor to
liberation.” (Bk.XII/98) “Wearied with hunger, thirst, and fatigue, with his
mind no longer self-possessed through fatigue,” he understood that without
bodily vigour it was not possible for the mind to achieve “absolutely calm.” He
observed: “True calm is properly obtained by the constant satisfaction of the
senses; the mind’s self-possession is only obtained by the senses being
perfectly satisfied.” (Bk.XII/100-101) With such self-knowledge, he decided that
eating food was necessary to ensure “supreme calm, undecaying, immortal state”
and that “True meditation is produced in him whose mind is self-possessed and
at rest, — to him whose thoughts are engaged in meditation the exercise of
perfect contemplation begins at once.” (Bk.XII/103,102)
He bathed in the Nairañjanā and came to the bank of
the river where divine intervention made a tree lower its branches to provide
him support to stand on his feet as he was too weak to do so on his own. Coincidentally,
at that moment, “Nandabalā, the
daughter of the leader of the herdsmen, impelled by the gods, with a sudden joy
risen in her heart,” came near him, bowed down with full reverence and offered
him milk to drink. (Bk.XII/106) After recovering physical strength, the Prince
found himself “capable of gaining the highest knowledge, all his six senses
being now satisfied.” (Bk.XII/109)
Seeing the Prince partaking food offered to
him and presuming he had returned to his worldly ways, the five mendicants left
him as “the five elements leave the wise soul when it is liberated.” (Bk.XII/111)
Forthwith, strengthened by “his own resolve, having fixed his mind on the
attainment of perfect knowledge, he went to the root of an Aśvattha tree” … and sat down
to “obtain perfect knowledge at the foot of the great holy tree.” Declaring with
a firm resolve, “I will not rise from this position on the earth until1 I have
obtained my utmost aim.” (Bk.XII/112,116,117), he remained engrossed in
realizing the truth of Nirvana.
In Book XIII – Defeat of Māra – Aśvaghoṣa begins by stating that
while the whole world rejoiced to witness the “great sage” “with his soul fully
resolved to obtain the highest knowledge, … Māra, the enemy of the good law, … Māra the enemy of liberation”
was terrified. (Bk.XIII/1,2) Threatened by the “sage, wearing the armour of
resolution, and having drawn the arrow of wisdom with the barb of truth, sits
yonder intending to conquer my realms,” Māra uses all resources and power of evil at
his command to disengage the Prince from his path.
While Māra and his violent army were engaged in their
nefarious tasks, “some being of invisible shape, but of pre-eminent glory,
standing in the heavens,” appealed to Māra to give up his “malevolence and retire to
peace” and made him aware of the power of the Prince in meditation: “Such is
that purpose of his, that heroic effort, that glorious strength, that
compassion for all beings, — until he attains the highest wisdom, he will never
rise from his seat, just as the sun does not rise, without dispelling the
darkness.” (Bk.XIII/59) Having listened to the words of the divine being, and
having “seen the unshaken firmness of the great saint, Māra departed dispirited and
broken in purpose.” (Bk.XIII/70) The outcome was greeted by “showers of flowers”
from the sky upon the earth.
Book XIV (Untitled) graphically describes
how, after conquering Māra
with his “firmness and calmness,” the Prince, “the great master of meditation,”
set himself to meditate, longing to know the supreme end.” (Bk.XIV/1) With the
aid of all kinds of meditation that he had mastered, he could visualise, in the
first phase, “the continuous series of all his former births” (Bk.XIV/2) and
arrived at the inference of the unsubstantiality of all existence. Watching the
transmigrations and rebirths of various beings endowed with misery, pain and
suffering on account of both good and evil deeds, he was filled with compassion.
He surmised how mankind lived in delusion brought about by desire and
temptation unmindful of the consequences of selfishness. Even “Paradise,
obtained by many labours, is uncertain and transitory,” as suffering is bound
to come “by separation from it.” (Bk.XIV/42)
Understanding dawns on him that this stream
of the cycle of existence guided by the law of Karma “has no support and is
ever subject to death. Creatures, thus beset of all sides, find no resting
place.” (Bk.XIV/47) The Bodhisattva saw with his “divine eyesight (divyacakṣus)” and examined the five
spheres of life and found “nothing substantial in existence.” (Bk.XIV/48) He
then meditated on the real nature of the world and inferred that existence was
a meaningless toil resulting out of an endless series of birth, old age, death
and rebirth. Urged on by passion (rāga) and blinded by delusion (moha), man does
not know “the way out of this great suffering.” (Bk.XIV/51)
In his deep meditative state the Bodhisattva comprehended
that it is only through “the annihilation of birth” that one can find
liberation from old age and death. In the words of Aśvaghoṣa: “the great seer
understood that the factors are suppressed by the complete absence of ignorance
(avidyā)” Knowing in depth what was
to be known, “he stood out before the
world as the Buddha” (Bk.XIV/83) and by the “eightfold path of supreme
insight” the awakened One “reached
the stage which knows no alteration, the sovereign leader the state of
omniscience.” (Bk.XIV/86)
The Buddha’s awakening was marked by
rejoicings all around. Deities, Siddhas, people on earth, Nature itself,
greeted the moment with joy and “the world became tranquil, as though it had
reached perfection.” (Bk.XIV/90) As a fitting finale to his grand epic, Aśvaghoṣa describes how the
awakened and enlightened Prince saw with his “Buddha-eye” the responsibility he
needed to shoulder to bring peace and tranquility in the world full of misery,
vain efforts, false views and gross passion. Greatly impressed by Buddha’s urge
to go beyond his own individual mission of attaining liberation and preach
tranquility to the world at large, Brahma and Indra, “the two chiefs of the
heavenly dwellings,” approached him and lauded his aim of sharing his
compassion for the benefit of all in glowing words: “O sage, having yourself
crossed beyond the ocean of existence, rescue the world which is drowning in
suffering.” (Bk.XIV/100)
The endorsement by the two gods further
strengthened the Buddha’s resolve to devote his life for the “liberation of the
world.” (Bk.XIV/103) The gods of the “four quarters” offered the seer four
“begging-bowls” which he gratefully accepted and turned them into one “for the
sake of the dharma.” Consequently, writes Aśvaghoṣa at the end of Book XIV, Gautama proceeded
to “the land of Kāśi, in
order to convert the world, and turning his entire body like an elephant, he
fixed his unwinking eyes on the bodhi tree.” (Bk.XIV/108)
In drawing the word portrait of the Buddha, Aśvaghoṣa vests his hero with
several exemplary virtues most prominent among which is his innate capacity to
justify through supreme rationality the ultimate purpose of his quest. His mindful
engagements in conversation with King Suddhodana, the family priest, the king’s
counsellors, the charioteer Chandaka, the ascetics in the grove, Magadh King Śreṇya, sages Arāḍa and Udraka, Aśvaghoṣa succeeds in unravelling
the substantiality of the Buddha’s contemplative reasoning in countering the
arguments of those who attempt to dissuade him from his avowed aim of ridding
the world of suffering connected to old age, sickness and death. Starting with
questioning the validity of rituals, penances, sacrifices, age-old traditions,
he puts himself to the litmus test of fasting and self-mortification for six
years. Yet, at the end of it all, he understands that he has not found what he
had so earnestly sought. Ultimately, after partaking of the food offered to him
by Nandabalā, he
regains his physical strength and sits down to obtain perfect knowledge at the
foot of the great holy tree. It is significant that he desires nothing for
himself, be it material reward or spiritual glory. It is of immense relevance
that while leaving the world for his eternal abode, the Buddha had instructed
his disciples not to “honour his remains” but to “strive for the highest good.”
(Akira 38) Speaking on Gautam Buddha before the British Academy on 28th June
1938, Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan had stated with all reverence: “He belongs
to the history of the world’s thought, to the general inheritance of all
cultivated men; for, judged by intellectual integrity, moral earnestness and
spiritual insight, he is undoubtedly one of the greatest figures in history.”
(Radhakrishnan v)
Though it cannot be denied that Edwin
Arnold’s Light of Asia went a long way to introduce the tale of Buddha
and his message to the Western world, it needs to be mentioned here what the
celebrated Indologist Charles Johnston observed when he compared Buddhacarita
with that of Arnold: “The life of Buddha … offers numberless most interesting
points of comparison with The Light of Asia, and it is no disparagement
of the modern poet, if we award the palm to the more ancient, as having a
deeper grasp of the great Teacher's thought, a more philosophic insight, and,
withal, a richer and more abundant wealth of poetry, finer beauty of imagery,
and a purer and robuster style.” (Johnston 6-7)
Among the dominant traits of the Buddha’s
personality as unravelled by Aśvaghoṣa’s classic, what stands
out prominently are his ability to question anything that was not supported by
intense logic and experience besides his missionary zeal to seek nothing for
himself, not even heavenly glory. It is remarkable indeed that two millennia
ago Aśvaghoṣa had hailed his epic hero
as “the noblest of mendicants,” “the sun of mankind,” “the Bodhisattva … with
subdued senses,” and “the very creation of Religion herself.” (Bk.X/13,15,18,19)
With his artistic genius Aśvaghoṣa thus succeeded in
creating in his immortal epic the grand narrative of one of the rarest of
mortals whose enduring presence continues to inspire one and all across
boundaries of nations, culture, caste, race, class, colour and gender to seek
the “highest good” through self-awakening.
WORKS CITED
Akira, Hirakawa. A History of Indian
Buddhism From Sakyamuni to Early Mahayana. Translated and edited by Paul
Grone. University of Hawaii University of Hawaii Press, 1990.
Aśvaghoṣa. The Buddhacarita, or The Life of
Buddha. Edited and translated by Edward B. Cowell. (first published in 1894
[text] & 1895 [translation], reprinted together New Delhi, 1977).
https://ancient-buddhist-texts.net/Texts-and-Translations/Buddhacarita/Buddhacarita.
pdf. Accessed 2 June 2025. All references to the text are from this edition and
have been cited with Book no. followed by verse number in parenthesis.
Chaudhuri, Roma. Aśvaghoṣa. Sahitya Akademi, 2017.
Johnston, Charles. Translated (from Sanskrit
to English)) and Edited. Buddhacarita: Buddha’s Renunciation by Aśvaghoṣa (1897). Theosophical
Classics, Lamp of Trismegistus, 2015. Kindle Edition.
Milton, John. Paradise Regained.
Aegypan, 2007. Book IV. Lines 176-177.
Muller, Max. Wisdom of the Buddha: The
Dhammapada. The Complete & Authoritative Edition Translated from Pali
by F. Max Muller. From The Sacred Book of the East Translated by Various
Oriental Scholars. Edited by Max Muller, Volume X Part I. Wisehouse Classics
(Sweden) 2016.
Radhakrishnan, S. Gautama The Buddha. The
Proceedings of the British Academy, Volume XXIV, being the Annual Lecture
on a Master Mind, delivered before the British Academy under the Henriette I
Hertz Trust, on 28th June 1938. Reprinted by Hind Kitabs, 1946.
Vivekananda, Swami. “Buddha’s Message to the
World.” The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda. Vol. VIII. Advaita
Ashram (150th Birth Anniversary edition), 2021 (4th
reprint). pp. 87-100.
· Dr. Nibir K. Ghosh, UGC Emeritus Professor & former Head,
Department of English Studies & Research, Agra College, Agra, has been a
Senior Fulbright Fellow at the University of Washinton, Seattle, USA during
2003-04.
· Dr. Sunita Rani Ghosh is Professor & Head, Department of
Hindi, Agra College, Agra.
Published in Re-Markings Vol. 25 No.1 March 2026, pp.125-140.
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