Thursday, December 27, 2007

the frog who showers flowers on lord buddha

one feature of the text i am reading here - and of much of sanskrit literature in general - is a delight in embedding stories within stories, such that finally stories are set within multiple frames. i share one example that caught my imagination, evoking as it does an image one still sees, and that after reading this story has lost much of its ordinariness for me: a cowherd leaning on his long stick contemplatively as his charges graze nearby. (sadly i have no photo of any as yet, so offer instead an image of some fields, to evoke the pastoral/agrarian setting this story assumes.)

in this tale, while buddha is telling a story to a gathering of monks, a humble cowherd brings his animals to a grazing spot within earshot and stands listening to the story. the narrator of the vinaya later tells us not only the story of the cowherd but that of a frog who was pinned under the stick that the cowherd was leaning on.

along with transforming how i look at cowherds with sticks, it has the effect of evoking the many series of ripples sent out into the world by the teaching of the buddha. translated from sanskrit, the story goes something like this:

At that very time, Nanda the cowherd was standing near the Lord [Buddha]. Leaning on his cane, he was grazing his cows. A frog was pinned by the cane, his skin pierced, his joints dislocated. He generated the thought, ‘If I should move my body or emit a sound, this would be the cause for Nanda the Cowherd to be distracted from the story.’ Having decided that, he made his mind inspired with faith in the presence of the Lord and died. He was reborn among the devas of the Four World Guardian Kings.

[We then hear the story of nanda the cowherd's reaction to the buddha's story: he asks to join the sangha, but buddha does not permit to ordain immediately, for some clever reasons. then we come back to the frog and his trajectory after death.]

It is in the nature of deva sons or deva daughters that when they are newly born they think about three things: from where they have passed on, where have they been born and due to what action. The deva son whose previous existence was as a frog saw that he had passed on from among the animals and been born among the devas of the Four World Guardian Kings, after making his mind inspired with faith in the presence of the Lord. It occurred to him, “It would not be proper for me to let a day pass without going to see the Lord. Therefore I should go to see the Lord without even letting one day pass.”

Then the deva son whose previous existence was as a frog approached the Lord. Wearing impeccable earrings that glittered as he moved, his body was adorned with necklace of 64 strands of pearls, the folds of his lower garment filled with celestial utpalas, kumudas, white lotuses and mandarava flowers, with intense colors. He reached the Lord in the dark of night, and illuminating the bank of the Ganges with a vast light, he showered the Lord with flowers and sat down before the Blessed One in order to listen to the Dharma.

Then, understanding the mental disposition and propensity, character and nature of the deva son whose previous existence was as a frog, the Lord gave that sort of Dharma teaching that penetrates the four nobles’ truths such that after hearing it, the deva son shattered the twenty-peaked mountain of belief in a personal self with the thunderbolt of wisdom, right as he was seated there, and actualized the fruit of stream-entry.

He said, “I have progressed, Lord, I have progressed. This one who is I go for refuge to the Lord, to the Dharma and to the Sangha. Accept me as a lay disciple from today forward for my whole life, as long as I live, as one who has gone for refuge and been inspired with faith.”

thus ends the story of the frog who was reborn as a deva.

now does anyone want to hear what happened to the cowherd?

Monday, December 17, 2007

one part brick

my friend and neighbor here in sarnath, bhikshuni jampa tsedroen, is also working on her dissertation. unlike me, she has just passed a major milestone in completing her draft. she celebrated with a quick trip to a nearby stupa.

local tradition has it that this stupa marks the spot where the buddha actually give the first discourse on the 'four noble truths' and where his first disciples became monks. it thus is revered as the place where the monastic order first took shape. (a similar honor is accorded a spot near the sri lankan mulagandhakuti temple here.) but this spot boasts a stupa that even in ruins towers high above the surrounding countryside; the photo above was taken only halfway up its side. a mughal king later had a pavilion erected on the top of the buddhist structure to commemorate a visit - in the sort of move to assert dominance over a place while drawing on its established sacrality that has been practiced by imperializing cultures everywhere.

the links connecting place and event in the life of the buddha are often tenuous. like many other such spots, it exists as one part brick, two parts imagination. happily, this spot is particularly rich in bricks.

Friday, December 14, 2007

a ride from the clinic

last week i managed to pour boiling water all over my hand. after googling 'burn boiling water first aid' and finding that anything as large as the area i had covered required 'immediate medical attention,' i was forced to overcome my instinctive resistance to visits to doctors. but a late evening trip to a local clinic just four minutes up the road proved extremely successful - it turned out to be run by a small community of indian women who are also catholic nuns, one a doctor trained in austria and three nurses. they all live onsite, and when we arrived, well after the clinic's closing hours, found them praying together in a simple chapel in back. a sister interrupted her devotions to come out and immediately said of course we will treat you. they did, and refused to accept payment for the service or medication. i came away with a very wholesome looking gunk to plaster over my burn, an admiration for the lives these women are leading and a renewed respect for the service work that christians can be found doing.

unfortunately, my visits to the clinic did not end there. though my hand is healing very nicely, a fairly debilitating stomach bug decided its turns was next. so after spending most of the week in bed i returned today. they put me on cipro, offered me a cup of tea, and sent me back home. i had taken my camera with me hoping to take a photo of their image of christ seated cross-legged with one hand in meditation posture, the other on classic buddhist gesture offering fearlessness or security. remembering on the rickshaw i failed to do so, i took random photos of the series of images that i see regularly during my daily five-minute ride to the tibetan institute. none are remarkable photos, nor were they taken with much care. in fact, they are so ordinary i look forward to viewing them later just for the nostalgia that is best fed by what is ordinary, but only in a given context.

what you see is in the order i passed it during the brief ride, all extraordinarily unworthy of notice here. sit on the edge of your seat, spine straight, and scroll lazily through these images if you want a sense of my ride home: - young girl playing outside gate (above)


- an outdoor barber shop; note brick floor



- a woman walking barefoot down the street (rickshaw driver's back in the extreme foreground)



- a roadside sweet shop cum pan shop cum chai shop with patient client in seating area,



- a cyclist picking his way between cow and her calf,



- a home shuttered up and in disuse,



- a man transporting the gas tanks used in any home that can afford to upgrade from cow dung or coal fires for cooking,



- a roadside furniture shop (manufacturing and sales outlet),



- vegetable stand next to barber shop (sarnath has what seems to me more than its fair share of barber shops for some reason - this is one of at least seven i pass daily),


- an elderly woman pictured near her home making patties out of cow dung to use for fuel, surrounded by goats on excruciatingly short tethers and paan shop,



- motorcycle repair shop (hero honda being the country's most popular model)



- cow hobbled by rope linking neck and leg so it cannot stray far, driver wiping down car while waiting for owner and ad for a local private school


- field of gracious trees crisscrossed by paths villagers take to reach the road - also doubles as cricket ground and garbage dump



- front yard mill - also doubles as laundry drying rack and little boy's plaything



- unmarried girls chatting on strong cot, family buffalo looking longingly at fodder bin



- dharmachakra gate to private home



- roadside grocer


- cow plays her part in the village's ad hoc recycling process



- our neighbor's servant giving directions to a motorist

so: do those of you who have been to india feel nostalgic or what? please leave a comment: they are most welcome and all-too-few on this blog!

Sunday, December 09, 2007

pretty great resolution

yes, this satellite image of sarnath has pretty great resolution. that is the stupa casting its shadow in the morning sun. these days, those who like my mexican friend flora who spend their days here meditating or doing other spritual practices at the stupa no longer chase the shade around the stupa throughout the day, as they did in october when i first arrived here. now it is the sun's thin warmth they seek.


Sarnath, India map - Tagzania

Saturday, December 01, 2007

a chill in uttar pradesh

this week in the north indian state of utter pradesh, temperatures have begun their slide to winter lows. as are the indian monks in this photo, with their shawls and wool hats, i am feeling the chill as daytime temperatures now hover around 70 degrees and can dip into the mid 60s at night.

far greater causes for chill, though, are the bombs set off last friday across the state. it seems earlier in the year, defense lawyers across this state had decided as a group that they would not defend people accused of terrorism-related crimes. now, some terrorist group or other planted bombs that exploded almost simultaneously at courthouses across the state, including that of nearby varanasi. the junior home minister (the ministry in charge of internal security, police etc) told the new york times, in discussing the attacks:

“Uttar Pradesh is so large, lapses can happen,” Sriprakash Jaiswal said.

at least 15 people died in varanasi alone, with many more injured. the following day the right-wing hindu political groups took vigorous advantage of the opportunity to stage a protest, calling for the resignation of the current government of india, and shutting down sections of varanasi. too bad, as the strikes prevented some from attending a dazzlingly beautiful hindu festival in which thousands of candles are set afloat on leaves on the ganges river.

so you have caught lawyers making a statement against terrorists, then right-wing and highly political hindu fundamentalist groups calling strikes against the terrorists and the government that it says is too soft on them, preventing hindu devotees from honoring their goddess ganga. and the government itself effectively calling its own territory unpoliceable - too large to prevent 'lapses.'

in the same complex that binds religious fundamentalism and politics rather tightly here in india of late, a muslim female writer has met with a decidedly mixed reception. this exceptionally outspoken woman, taslima nasreen was threatened with death by muslim clerics in her native bangladesh, after writing novels questioning women's status in her muslim culture. she had a valid indian visa, so came here to stay in the state of bengal that is adjacent to bangladesh and shares much of its culture and langauge, though the state of bengal is predominantly hindu while bangladesh is muslim. but upon arriving, she found that the communist party that runs the state was none too happy to have a prominent target of muslim ire around. (the communist party draws heavy support from the muslim population of the state, it seems.) after they succeeded in forcing taslima out of the state, the other states have been falling over themselves trying to pass her off to another state... except gujarat - a state whose government is most vocally pro-hindu fundamentalism. it seems in the delicate balancing act between the potentially volatile 'communal groups,' this courageous woman has fallen deep into the gap. some of her books, meanwhile, are banned in india.

for those who missed the ny times articles, they are still available online at this link and this one.

just to make clear, it is not all fun and games - or all elephants and relics - here.