An island which no flood can overwhelm ~ Malinda Words

One of the most fascinating source stories or nidhaana katha of the Dhammapada is that of the brothers Mahapantaka and Culapantaka. Chulapantaka, the younger and generally seen as a dullard, is overcome with self-doubt and is about to return to lay life when the Buddha, having noted the same, gave him a simple exercise.

The young bhikkhu was given a clean piece of cloth and instructed to rub it which uttering the word ‘rajoharanam (taking on impurity) over and over again. Culapanthaka noting that the cloth had become soiled perceived the impermanent nature of all conditional things.

The Buddha then appeared before him and said, ‘It is not the piece of cloth alone that is made dirty by the dust; within oneself also there exist the dust of passion (raga), the dust of ill will (dosa), and the dust of ignorance (moha), i.e., the ignorance of the Four Noble Truths. Only by removing these could one achieve one's goal and attain arahatship.’

This is the back-story of the 25th Dhammapada verse, the Culapantaka Vattu.

Utthanena'ppamadena 

samyamena damena ca 

dipam kayiratha medhavi 

yam ogho nabhikirati.

Essentially, this: through diligence, mindfulness, discipline and control of senses, a wise person can become an island which no flood can overwhelm.

The keyword as far as the exercise of waiting this goes is ‘island.’ That’s what we are. It doesn't take some kind of exceptional intellect to tell us that we are eminently flood-prone. Collectively, we have not bothered to reflect on the process through which impurities are taken on. Where is the due diligence? Are we mindful? Are we disciplined? Have our senses been rendered dull? Should we be surprised, then, that we are not an island that cannot be overwhelmed by flood?

Interestingly, when at the house of Jivaka at which the above exercise was recommended by the Buddha, when libation water was about to be poured, the Buddha is said to have covered the bowl with his hand and asked if there were any bhikkus left in the monastery. ‘None,’ was the answer, but the Buddha knew that the bhikkhu Culapantaka was in fact in the monastery and had requested that he be fetched.

The messenger had set forth and when he reached the monastery discovered that there were a thousand identical bhikkus. He had returned and reported. The Buddha had instructed him to call out to Culapantaka. When he did this, the one thousand replied, ‘I am Culapantaka.’ Finally the Buddha told him to get hold of the one who first said he was Culapantaka. The moment he did this, the rest disappeared. Apparently, after the meal, as directed by the Buddha, Arahat Culapanthaka delivered a religious discourse confidently and bravely, roaring like a young lion.

That was the ‘dullard,’ who had not long before been wallowing in self-doubt. And that is the transformation that can be wrought by one who is diligent and steadfast in striving.

What of the ‘one thousand’? The Arahat Culapantaka roaring like a lion could be read as a metaphoric articulation of communicative power. It was like a thousand voices saying the same thing in unison. It was like the aggregate of a thousand minds.

If such is the kind of power that a single individual, labeled as a dullard, could acquire, we can easily extrapolate to the resources that would accrue to an entire community that has practiced diligence and is steadfast in striving. We can stop this side of those regions of perfection associated with the word ‘Enlightenment’ and think about the basics that we could do.

The piece of cloth or handkerchief can be anything we want it to be. Focused and diligent reflection would, theoretically, empower us with some sense of the accumulation of impurities. And that consequently would pave the way for comprehension of the dimensions of impermanence and more importantly the relevant conditions, the causality.

A single individual thus empowered no longer has a voice, but is a chorus. Enough to create an island that is flood-resistant. A nation thus empowered will resist all machinations that seek to tear it apart.

There’s cleansing obtained from understanding how things get soiled and crucially that the soiling has something or a lot to do with the dusts that exist within ourselves, within our nation (never mind the garbage dumped on us by external entities which, we must not forget, constitute flood-waters that must be resisted); the dust of raga, dosa and moha.

You and I can become islands which no flood can overwhelm. Our nation too can be flood-resistant.

['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is a new series. Links to previous articles in this new series are given below]

Other articles in this series:

Who really wrote 'Mother'?

A melody faint and yet not beyond hearing

Heart dances that cannot be choreographed

Remembering to forget and forgetting to remember

On loving, always

Authors are assassinated, readers are immortal

When you turn 80...

It is good to be conscious of nudities

Saturday slides in after Monday and Sunday somersaults into Friday

There's a one in a million and a one in ten

Gunadasa Kapuge is calling