Ja 12 Nigrodhamigajātaka This Jātaka is referred to in Milindapañho (page 289 of Rhys Davids’ translation), and is figured in Plates xxv (1) and xliii (2) of Cunningham’s Stūpa of Bharhut.
The Birth Story about the Deer (named) Nigrodha (1s)
In the present the Buddha defends a nun who was found to be pregnant as it happened before her ordination. She later has a child, who becomes a famous monk in the dispensation. The Buddha then tells a story of two herds of deer in previous times, and how the king of one condemned a pregnant doe to die for the king’s lunch; while the other king, he stepped in to take her place. The king of Benares, impressed with his compassion, decided to free all animals in his kingdom.
The Bodhisatta = the king of the deer, Nigrodha (Nigrodhamigarājā),
Devadatta = Sākha deer (Sākhamiga),
Devadatta’s followers = Sākha deer’s followers (Sākhamigaparisā),
A pregnant nun = the female doe (migadhenu),
Kumārakassapa = the (doe’s) son (putta),
Ānanda = the king (of Benares) (rājā).
Present and Past Compare: Dhp-a XII.4 Kumārakassapamātuttherī.
Keywords: Compassion, Humility, Animals.
“Associate with Nigrodha.” This story was told by the Teacher while at Jetavana about the mother of the elder named prince Kassapa. The daughter, we learn, of a wealthy merchant of Rājagaha was deeply rooted in goodness and scorned all temporal things; she had reached her final existence, and within her breast, like a lamp in a pitcher, glowed her sure hope of winning
“What, my dear? Ours is a very wealthy family, and you are our only daughter. You cannot take the vows.”
Having failed to win her parents’ consent, though she asked them again and again, she thought to herself, “Be it so then; when I am married into another family, I will gain my husband’s consent and take the vows.” And when, being grown up, she entered another family, she proved a devoted wife and lived a life of goodness and virtue Or, perhaps, “was beautiful.” in her new home. Now it came to pass that she conceived, though she knew it not.
There was a festival proclaimed in that city,
“My lord and master,” she replied, “the body is filled with two-and-thirty component parts. Wherefore should it be adorned? This bodily frame is not fashioned after a Deva or a Brahma; it is not made of gold, jewels, or yellow sandalwood; it takes not its birth from the womb of lotus-flowers, white or red or blue; it is not filled with any immortal balsam. Nay, it is bred of corruption, and born of mortal parents; the qualities that mark it are the wearing and wasting away, the decay and destruction of the merely transient; it is fated to swell a graveyard, and is devoted to sensual desires; it is the source of sorrow, and the occasion of lamentation; it is the abode of all diseases, and the repository of the workings of Karma. Foul within – it is always excreting. Yea, as all the world can see, its end is death, passing to the charnel-house, there to be the dwelling-place of worms.
Connected by bones and sinews, smeared with skin and flesh, the body is covered with the tegument, it is not seen for what it really is.
Filled with intestines, filled with stomach, having liver, bladder, heart, lungs, kidneys, and spleen, mucus, saliva, sweat and fat, blood, sinovial fluid, bile and sweat.
Furthermore, from the nine openings flow excrements on all sides, eye-excrement from the eyes, ear-excrement from the ears, mucus from the nose, and sometimes one vomits from the mouth, one throws up bile and phlegm, from the body flow sweat and dirt.
Furthermore, the hollow of the head is filled with the brain. The fool regards this as beautiful, being surrounded by ignorance (Snp. 196-201).
There is endless danger in the body, it is like a poisonous tree, the abode of all illnesses, a complete heap of suffering (Tha-ap. 55).
If from this body the inside would be exposed, one would need to take a stick to ward off the crows and dogs.
The impure body smells bad, like a cesspit, a toilet, the body, that fools take delight in, is condemned by those having insight.
Covered with moist flesh, having nine openings, a great wound, it flows with stinking excrements on all sides (Vsm. 1.122).
What should I achieve, my bridegroom, by tricking out this body? Would not its adornment be like decorating the outside of a bed pan?”
“My dear wife,” rejoined the young merchant, “if you regard this body as so sinful, why don’t you become a nun?”
“If I am accepted, my husband, I will take the vows this very day.” “Very good,” said he, “I will get you admitted to the Saṅgha.” And after he had shown lavish bounty and hospitality to the Saṅgha, he escorted her with a large following to the nunnery and had her admitted a nun – but of the following of Devadatta. Great was her joy at the fulfilment of her desire to become a nun.
As her time drew near, the nuns, noticing the change in her person, the swelling in her hands and feet and her increased size, said: “Lady, you seem about to become a mother; what does it mean?”
“I cannot tell, ladies; I only know I have led a virtuous life.”
So the nuns brought her before Devadatta, saying: “Lord, this young gentle-woman, who was admitted a nun with the reluctant consent of her husband, has now proved to be with child; but whether this dates from before her admission to the Saṅgha or not, we cannot say. What are we to do now?”
Not being a Buddha, and not having any patience, loving-kindness or sympathy, Devadatta thought thus, “It will be a damaging report to get abroad that one of my nuns is with child, and that I condone the offence. My course is clear – I must expel this woman from the Saṅgha.” Without any enquiry, starting forward as if to thrust aside a mass of stone, he said: “Away, and expel this woman!”
Receiving this answer, they arose and with reverent salutation withdrew to their own nunnery. But the girl said to those nuns, “Ladies, Devadatta the elder is not the Buddha. My vows were taken not under Devadatta, but under
Thought the Teacher, “Albeit the child was conceived while she was still of the laity, yet it will give the heretics an occasion to say that the ascetic Gotama
“It shall be done, venerable sir,” said the elder, and forth to the assembly he went and there, seating himself in his place, he called up Visākhā the lay-disciple in sight of the king, and placed the conduct of the enquiry in her hands, saying: “First ascertain the precise day of the precise month on which this girl joined the Saṅgha, Visākhā; and thence compute whether she conceived before or since that date.” Accordingly the lady had a curtain put up as a screen, behind which she retired with the girl. Looking at the hands, the feet, the navel, at the very belly of the damsel [For reasons I do not understand this sentence was printed in Latin in the original: Spectatis manibus, pedibus, umbilico, ipso ventre puellæ.] the lady found, on comparing the days and months, that the conception had taken place before the girl had become a nun. This she reported to the elder, who proclaimed the nun innocent before all the assembly. And she, now that her innocence was established, reverently saluted the Saṅgha and the Teacher, and with the nuns returned to her own nunnery.
When her time was come, she bore the son strong in spirit, for whom she had prayed at the feet of the Buddha Padumuttara ages ago. One day, when the king was passing by the nunnery, he heard the cry of an infant and asked his courtiers what it meant. They, knowing the facts, told his majesty that the cry came from the child to which the young nun had given birth. “Sirs,” said the king, “the care of children is a clog on nuns in their ascetic life; let us take charge of him.” So the infant was handed over by the king’s command to the ladies of his family, and brought up as a prince. When the day came for him to be named, he was called Kassapa, but was known as prince Kassapa [Kassapakumāra] because he was brought up like a prince.
At the age of seven he was admitted a novice under the Teacher, and a full monk when he was old enough. As time went on, he waxed famous among the expounders of the Dhamma. So the Teacher gave him precedence, saying: “Monks, the first in eloquence among my disciples is prince Kassapa.” Afterwards, by virtue of the Vammīkasutta, [MN 23.] he became an Arahat. So too his mother, the nun, grew to clear insight and won the Supreme Fruit. Prince Kassapa the elder shone in the dispensation of the Buddha
Now one day in the afternoon when the Tathāgata on return from his alms-round had addressed the monks, he passed into his perfumed chamber. At the close of his address the monks spent the daytime either in their night-quarters or in their day-quarters till it was evening, when they assembled in the Dhamma Hall and spoke as follows, “Monks, Devadatta, because he was not a Buddha and because he had no patience, loving-kindness or sympathy, was nigh being the ruin of the elder prince Kassapa and his venerable mother. But the Supreme Buddha, being the Lord of Dhamma and being perfect in patience, loving-kindness and sympathy, has provided their foundation.” And as they sat there telling the praises of the Buddha, he entered the hall with all the grace of a Buddha, and asked, as he took his seat, what they were talking of as they sat together. “Of your own virtues, sir,” they said, and told him all.
“This is not the first time, monks,” said he, “that the Tathāgata has proved to be a foundation and refuge of these two: he was the same to them in the past also.”
Then, on the monks asking him to explain this to them, he revealed what rebirth had hidden from them.
In the past, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born a deer. At his birth he was golden of hue; his eyes were like round jewels; the sheen of his horns was as of silver; his mouth was red as a bunch of scarlet cloth; his four hoofs were as though lacquered; his tail was like the yak’s; and he was as big as a young foal. Attended by five hundred deer, he dwelt in the forest under the name of king Nigrodha [Banyan]. And nearby him dwelt another deer also with an attendant herd of five hundred deer, who was named Sākha [Branch], and was as golden of hue as the Bodhisatta.
In those days the king of Benares was passionately fond of hunting, and always had meat at every meal. Every day he mustered the whole of his subjects, townsfolk and countryfolk alike, to the detriment of their business, and went hunting. Thought his people, “This king of ours stops all our work. Suppose we were
Hereupon the king betook himself to the pleasure gardens, and in looking over the herd saw among them two golden deer, to whom he granted immunity. Sometimes he would go of his own accord and shoot a deer to bring home; sometimes his cook would go and shoot one. At first sight of the bow, the deer would dash off trembling for their lives, but after receiving two or three wounds they grew weary and faint and were slain. The herd of deer told this to the Bodhisatta, who sent for Sākha and said: “Friend, the deer are being destroyed in great numbers; and, though they
Now one day the lot fell on a pregnant doe of the herd of Sākha, and she went to Sākha and said: “Lord, I am with young. When I have brought forth my little one, there will be two of us to take our turn. Order me to be passed over this turn.” “No, I cannot make your turn another’s,” said he, “you must bear the consequences of your own fortune. Begone!” Finding no favour with him, the doe went on to the Bodhisatta and told him her story. And he answered, “Very well; you go away, and I will see that the turn passes over you.” And therewithal he went himself to the place of execution and lay down with his head on the block. The cook cried out on seeing him, “Why here’s the king of the deer who was granted immunity! What does this mean?” And off he ran to tell the king. The moment he heard of it, the king mounted his chariot and arrived with a large following. “My friend the king of the deer,” he said on beholding the Bodhisatta, “did I not promise you your life? How comes it that you are lying here?”
“Sire, there came to me a doe big with young, who prayed me to let her turn fall on another; and, as I could not pass the doom of one on to another, I, laying down my life for her and taking her doom on myself, have laid me down here. Think not that there is anything behind this, your majesty.”
“My lord the golden king of the deer,” said the king, “never yet saw I, even among men, one so abounding in patience, loving-kindness and sympathy as you. Therefore am I pleased with you. Arise! I spare the lives both of you and of her.”
“Though two be spared, what shall the rest do, O king of men?” “I spare their lives too, my lord.” “Sire, only the deer in your pleasure gardens will thus have gained immunity; what shall all the rest do?” “Their lives too I spare, my lord.” “Sire, deer will thus be safe; but what will the rest of four-footed creatures do?”
After thus interceding with the king for the lives of all creatures, the
And that doe brought forth a fawn fair as the opening bud of the lotus, who used to play about with Sākha deer. Seeing this his mother said to him, “My child, don’t go about with him, only go about with the herd of the Nigrodha deer.” And by way of exhortation, she repeated this verse:
1. Nigrodham-eva seveyya, na Sākham-upasaṁvase,
Nigrodhasmiṁ mataṁ seyyo, yañ-ce Sākhasmi jīvitan-ti.
Associate with Nigrodha, associate not with Sākha, better is death with Nigrodha, than is having life with Sākha.
Thenceforth, the deer, now in the enjoyment of immunity, used to eat men’s crops, and the men, remembering the immunity granted to them, did not dare to hit the deer or drive them away. So they assembled in the king’s courtyard and laid the matter before the king. Said he, “When the Nigrodha deer won my favour,
But when this came to the ears of the Nigrodha deer, he called his herd together and said: “Henceforth you shall not eat the crops of others.” And having thus forbidden them, he sent a message to the men, saying: “From this day forward, let no farmer fence his field, but merely indicate it with leaves tied up round it.” And so we hear began a plan of tying up leaves to indicate the fields; and never was a deer known to trespass on a field so marked. For thus they had been instructed by the Bodhisatta.
Thus did the Bodhisatta exhort the deer of his herd, and thus did he act all his life long, and at the close of a long life passed away with them to fare according to his deeds. The king too abode by the Bodhisatta’s teachings, and after a life spent in good works passed away to fare according to his deeds.
At the close of this lesson, when the Teacher had repeated that, as now, so in bygone days also he had been the support of the pair, he preached the Four Truths. He then showed the connection, linking together the two stories he had told, and identified the Jātaka by saying: “Devadatta was the deer called Sākha of
last updated: August 2023