"I stopped long ago. When will you stop?"

I'm reminded of these words of Buddha today, on the occasion of Buddha Purnima that commemorates Shakyamuni's birth over two millennia ago.

Let me recount the deeply moving story behind these words. Hundreds of millions in India and elsewhere would already know this either through moral tales taught in school or some other books tracing the life of the Enlightened One. Nevertheless, the message of peace and non-violence in this story remains relevant as ever—indeed more so now than at any other point in human history. 

Once the Buddha was passing through a jungle that was dreaded by the locals, who avoided it for fear of limb and life. It was said that the forest was the hideout and preying ground of a dangerous murderer called Angulimala. What he used to do was murder anyone passing through the wood and, horror of horrors, cut off one of the fingers from the person’s hand. He had a garland of such fingers that he used to wear around his neck—which is what had earned him the moniker Angulimala (in the Pali language, the word “anguli” means finger and “mala” means necklace).

Even though the Buddha was aware of this murderer and had possibly been warned against visiting those parts frequented by Angulimala, he chose to ignore the warning and anyway pass through the forest that particular evening. 

It was getting dark and the silence of the jungle seemed ominous.

With his senses keen as ever, the Buddha soon perceived someone following behind him. The footsteps gradually grew louder. The Buddha heard a threatening voice: “Stop, monk, stop!”

But the Buddha remained unperturbed and kept walking slowly, quietly.

In no time, Angulimala appeared before the Buddha, brandishing his sword and speaking menacingly: “I told you to stop. Why didn’t you stop?”

The Buddha looked at Angulimala with his peaceful, penetrating gaze and said, “I stopped long ago, Angulimala. When will you stop?”

The calm demeanor with which Buddha addressed him and the serene look of the sage completely disarmed Angulimala. His outer image of a treacherous murderer was shattered. He was suddenly gripped with repentance and was overwhelmed by the Buddha’s loving presence.

Angulimala fell at the Buddha’s feet and cried.

The Buddha smiled kindly at the murderer. He picked up Angulimala and embraced him as he would embrace any of his disciples in his sangha (brotherhood of monks).

Gently and with tender care, the Buddha spoke to Angulimala about how he had long ago stopped committing acts that caused suffering to other living beings and why everyone should nurture compassion in their heart.

In the book Old Path White Clouds, the late vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh has beautifully captured how the Buddha saw through the suffering of Angulimala before he became a murderer and the gentleness with which he spoke to the repentant man. In Nhat Hanh’s words, the Buddha told Angulimala:

“Angulimala, I know you have suffered deeply at the hands of other humans. Sometimes humans can be most cruel. Such cruelty is the result of ignorance, hatred, desire, and jealousy. But humans can also be understanding and compassionate. Have you ever met a bhikkhu before? Bhikkhus vow to protect the lives of all other beings. They vow to overcome desire, hatred, and ignorance. There are many people, not just bhikkhus, whose lives are based on understanding and love. Angulimala, there may be cruel people in this world, but there are also many kind people. Do not be blinded. My path can transform cruelty into kindness. Hatred is the path you are on now. You should stop. Choose the path of forgiveness, understanding, and love instead.” (Bhikkhu means begging monk.)

How simple, profound, and true are Buddha’s words! And, I must add, how relevant in these times when ignorance, hatred, and desire rule the minds and motivations of the power hungry—the Putins of today’s world.

Moved by Buddha’s message of kindness and peace, Angulimala gave up his nefarious ways and went on to become one of his most ardent disciples.

The bhikkhus who saw Angulimala’s transformation from a mass murderer to a monk of rare caliber were so impressed that they named him Ahimsaka (the Nonviolent One, how ironic but apt).

There is an Angulimala in each one of us. Let’s try and bring him round to listen to the voice of love and peace.

Let’s stop now before it’s too late.

Happy Buddha Purnima!

Remembering the Buddha via three simple numbers—3, 4, 8

 

Around five centuries before the birth of Christ, a Hindu prince of the Sakya clan began questioning everything and set out to explore a path to end human suffering. Yes, it was the Buddha, the Enlightened One, indisputably among the greatest teachers who ever walked on Earth.

The Buddha’s message was incredibly simple yet powerful. However, as his words got passed down the generations and as the followers of different streams of Buddhism (Mahayana, Hinayana, Theravada come to mind) multiplied in numbers and their own interpretations of his teachings, things became, well, a wee bit complicated.

So, in the tradition of going back to the source, first-principle thinking, or sticking to the fundamentals, here’s remembering Buddha through three simple numbers.

Three. Becoming a Buddhist is literally as simple as one-two-three—or taking the three ‘refuges’ (devotional pledges). “Buddham sharanam gachhami. Dharmam sharnam gachhami. Sangham sharanam gachhami.”  (I take refuge in the Buddha. I take refuge in Dharma. I take refuge in Sangha.)

Four. That’s right, the Four Noble Truths that the Buddha espoused. There is suffering in the world. The cause of suffering is craving. The suffering can be ended. The way to end it is the Eightfold Path.

Which brings us to the number Eight. The Eightfold Path suggested by the Buddha as a way to end suffering is, again, simple and intuitive: right view, right resolve, right speech, right conduct, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right samadhi. 

Of course, the crux of being a Buddhist lies in truly practicing the above path. It’s heartening to note that hundreds of millions across the world have been inspired by Buddha’s words of wisdom and compassion, and a great many have been trying to follow in his footsteps. Countless souls have benefited from adopting and adapting at least some of the precepts into their everyday lives.

So let’s try and keep the Buddha in our hearts and memories as much as we can. The world needs him today more than ever.

Can You Imagine How the Buddha Played the Flute?

We all know that Lord Krishna played the flute and held the entire world in the sway of its music. One of his several names is Bansidhar, which means the holder of the flute. So it came as a pleasant surprise to me that Buddha, the enlightened one, too, played this divine musical instrument made from the bamboo plant. And oh boy, did he play it beautifully!

The revelation came through the book Old Path White Clouds by revered Vietnamese monk and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh. The book is a majestic retelling of Buddha’s eighty years of life built on multiple sources and accounts in several languages.

While Nhat Hanh mentions a young Siddhartha (Buddha’s given name) playing the flute serenely under a moonlit sky in the early chapters of the book, to me the real magic and melody of Buddha’s flute came alive in Chapter Twenty-Five, aptly titled Music’s Lofty Peaks.

In the episode, Buddha is said to have met a group of young people in a forest between Varanasi and Rajagriha (written Rajagaha in the book, now the city of Rajgir in Bihar). As the story goes, one of them asked the Buddha to play the flute for them just as some of them burst out laughing, dismissing the idea of a monk playing the flute.

Never the one to be perturbed, the Buddha just smiled.

Now, as the Buddha took a few deep breaths and put the flute to his lips, can you imagine how those young men felt? Can you imagine the music that wafted magically in the wind of that forest? Before he touched the first note, the Buddha reflected on how many, many years ago he played the flute as the Sakya prince in the capital city of Kapilvastu.

I believe it must take the spiritual depth and simplistic genius of a true monk to put forth the description that follows. This is how Thich Nhat describes the Buddha playing the flute in his book:

“The sound was as delicate as a thin strand of smoke curling gently from the roof of a simple dwelling outside Kapilavatthu at the hour of the evening meal. Slowly the thin strand expanded across space like a gathering of clouds which in turn transformed into a thousand-petalled lotus, each petal a different shimmering color. It seemed that one flutist suddenly had become ten thousand flutists, and all the wonders of the universe had been transformed into sounds—sounds of a thousand colors and forms, sounds as light as a breeze and quick as the pattering of rain, clear as a crane flying overhead, intimate as a lullaby, bright as a shining jewel, and subtle as the smile of one who has transcended all thoughts of gain and loss. The birds of the forest stopped singing in order to listen to this sublime music, and even the breezes ceased rustling the leaves. The forest was enveloped in an atmosphere of total peace, serenity, and wonder.”

Can you imagine how the Buddha played the flute?

As I read those lyrical words, I could feel a certain peace within my own self. It is as if you are being transported into another realm of existence on the wings of a swan. As if the gentle embrace of a child is holding you in its inexplicable delight. As if your heart has become so much full of love and divine grace that it is overflowing with joy…As if all the pain of thousands of years buried deep in the multiple births of your existence is melting away into a single note of relief…

Can you, can you imagine how the Buddha played the flute!