Thig 10 Kīsṅ Gotamī

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But when she asked if anyone had died in the family, the universal response was always, "Oh, yes, of course." After a while, the message sunk in: Death is universal. On abandoning the childâs body to a charnel ground, she returned to the Buddha and asked to be ordained as a nun, and afterwards became an arahant. The canonical verses associated with Kīsṅ Gotamīâs name, however, tell a different story, which is identical to the story that the Commentary attributes to Paṭṅcṅrṅ: Pregnant with her second child, she was returning to her parentsâ home, along with her husband and young firstborn child, to give birth. Along the way, a great storm blew up, and she asked her husband to provide shelter for the family. As he was cutting grass and gathering sticks to build a shelter, a snake bit him and he died of the poison. Unsheltered, and wondering at her husbandâs long absence, Paṭṅcṅrṅ gave birth and had to spend the night sheltering both her children against the rain and wind with nothing more than her body. The next morning, she found her husband dead. Distraught, she decided to return to her parentsâ home. However, a river—swollen from the rain of the previous night—ran across her way. Unable to carry both children across the river in one trip, she left her first-born on the near bank and waded through the raging current carrying her baby. Placing the baby on the far bank, she turned back to fetch her first-born. A hawk, seeing the baby, took it for a piece of flesh, and swooped down on it. Seeing this, Paṭṅcṅrṅ raised her hands and tried to chase it away, but to no avail: The hawk picked up the baby and carried it off. Meanwhile, her first-born—seeing his mother raising her hands—took it for a signal to cross the river. Jumping into the raging current, he was carried off to his death. Overwhelmed with grief, Paṭṅcṅrṅ returned to her parentsâ home, only to learn that it had burned down from a lightning strike in the previous nightâs storm. Her parents and brother were at that moment being cremated on a single pyre. At this point, she went mad and began wandering around half-naked. Only on coming into the Buddhaâs presence did she recover her senses. He taught her the Dhamma, and eventually she ordained and became an arahant. Why this story is attributed to Paṭṅcṅrṅ in the Commentary when it is obviously Kīsṅ Gotamīâs in the Canon, is hard to tell. Some scholars have suggested that the tales in the Pṅli commentaries were imported from other Buddhist traditions, such as the Mūlasarvṅstivṅdin. Thus, the differences between the canonical verses and the commentarial tales stem from the fact that the different traditions attributed particular stories to different elder monks and nuns. For instance, the Pali Canon attributed the story of the woman whose family was destroyed in a single day to Kīsṅ Gotamī, while the tradition from which the Commentary drew attributed it to Paṭṅcṅrṅ. If thatâs the case, itâs interesting to note how the commentators who adopted these tales nevertheless remained faithful to their Canon. Instead of trying to change the Pali to fit with the commentarial source on which they drew, they allowed the discrepancies between the two sources to stand: one of many instances in which the discrepancies between the Canon and the commentaries suggest that the monks who handed down the Pali Canon tried to keep it intact even when they didnât agree with it. Later Theravṅdin texts have tried to cover over the discrepancies between Kīsṅ Gotamīâs verses and the Commentary to those verses by insisting that the passage in the verses beginning, "Going along, about to give birth," and ending, "my husband dead, I reached the deathless," is actually Paṭṅcṅrṅ speaking, but this seems unlikely: Why would one arahant butt in on another oneâs tale? At any rate, regardless of which story is Paṭṅcṅrṅâs, and which Kīsṅ Gotamīâs, both speak to the universality of death, and the power of the path of practice: that in the midst of this human world with all its sorrows, there is still a way to find that which is free from grieving, aging, and illness: the deathless. Having admirable friends has been praised by the Sage with reference to the world. Associating with an admirable friend even a fool becomes wise. People of integrity should be associated with. In that way discernment grows. Associating with people of integrity one would be released from all suffering & stress, would know stress, the origination of stress, cessation & the eightfold path: the four noble truths. Stressful, painful, is the womanâs state: So says the tamer of tamable people. Being a co-wife is painful. Some, on giving birth once, slit their throats. Others, of delicate constitution, take poison. In the midst of a breech-birth both [mother & child] suffer destruction. Going along, about to give birth, I saw my husband       dead. Giving birth in the road, I hadnât reached my own home. Two children deceased, my husband dead in the road —miserable me! My mother, father, & brother were burning on a single pyre. "Your family all gone, miserable, youâve suffered pain without measure. Your tears have flowed for many thousands of lives."1 Then I saw, in the midst of the charnel ground,2 the muscles of sons being chewed. With family killed, despised by all, my husband dead, I reached the deathless. Iâve developed this path, noble, eightfold, going to the deathless. Having realized unbinding, Iâve gazed in the mirror of Dhamma. Iâve extracted the arrow,3 put down the burden, done the task. I, Kīsṅ Gotamī Therī, my heart well released, have said this. Notes 1. According to the Commentary, this was the Buddhaâs message to Kīsṅ Gotamī. See SN 13:8 and Thag 3:5. 2. Reading passiṃ taṃ susṅna-majjhe with the Thai edition. 3. See Sn 4:15. - --> - - - -