Light of the Himalayas: A Research-Based Novel on Buddha

By Kavitaram Shrestha

To those who associate Siddharthas enlightenment with magical happenings, Light of the Himalayas is an answer. The novel traces the gradual development of Siddhartha from an inquisitive child to a serious explorer on a trajectory of science and objectivity, until his discovery of the elixir of life, the eight-fold path, and the four golden rules. The book decenters many myths and misconceptions about the life of the Buddha and invites readers to engage in scientific discourse about the religion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jun 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543401028

Kavitaram Shrestha

Kavitaram Shrestha is a researcher and a novelist. He has received many awards and felicitations, including Esteemed Award for "Mahabhinishkramanka Aswikrit Paaila" (the Nepali version of this book) from Philosophical Society of Buddhism (Sidney 2012). Similarly, he won the Innovation Award from Nepalese Cultural Center (London), Sajha Award for Children's Literature (Nepal 2001), The Youth of the Year ( Youth Forum 1994), Asia-Africa Solidarity Award for the story of the film "Mukti Sangharsha" at Pyongyang International Festival in Pyongyang North Korea (1994), The Best Feature Film Storywriter of the Year by Nepal Video Film Association for video film "Mukti Sangharsha" (1991), and The Best Children's Book Writer for the International Children's Year 1982-83 by UNICEF. The honors he has received include a felicitation by Pravasi Sahaitya Parishad (UK, 2008) and a felicitation conferred by International Nepalese Literature Society, DC (US, 2008). Mr. Shrestha is the pioneer of Aswikrit Bichar Sahityik Abhiyan, a campaign for the literature of the other.

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Suddhodana Meets Mayadevi

Dear readers!

Suddhodana, just elected the raja—king—of the Shakya principality, and his second brother Shuklodana third brother Shakyodana, fourth brother Dhautodana and the youngest brother Amitodana had gone to the forest of Lumbini on a hunting expedition. Suddhodana was following an antlered swamp deer. His brothers too were chasing the same beast, surrounding it from all around and forcing it to move towards Suddhodana. The deer was finding it quite taxing to run, owing largely to its heavily-branched and jutted antlers. It was being constantly obstructed by the antlers getting tangled among vines and creepers.

For Suddhodana too, this pursuance was getting tougher each moment. He was on horseback, the string of his bow stretched, ready. He was being constantly impeded by the thicket; the boughs were pounding against his head at times, or were tangling the bow. He was finding it difficult to let the heavily-built stallion run across the woods. His brothers, who were surrounding the deer from all around, too had retreated to a distance owing largely to the menacingly thick tendrils and branches.

The deer, in human surrounding, had grown quite alarmed now; yet, it had been able to outwit the hunters and leave them behind. It used to dart in a direction where no man stood.

Suddhodana was lagging shamefully behind.

At one point, the deer suddenly stopped. All the five brothers were perplexed not knowing why the beast had halted. In a trice, the deer took an unmanned direction, but the fourth brother Dhautodana was coming on his horse from the same direction. So, the deer could not run. From its opposite, second brother Shuklodana was riding his horse; so the path was out-of-bound for the deer. It changed direction, only to be barred by approaching hunters Shakyodana and Amitodana, the third and the youngest of the brothers respectively. Confused, the deer kept moving from here to there, unable to find for itself a way out.

Meanwhile, Suddhodana reached quite near to the beast. The beast now had no option but to jump high and escape. It had hardly jumped some five feet high, when Suddhodana shot his arrow from the horseback. The arrow pierces the heart of the deer in the air itself, and the animal fell with a thud on the thicket nearby. No one knew what happened at the spot of its fall, but from there, heart-rending cries of maidens emanated, shaking the entire forest. Suddhodana and his brothers were terrified; they thought something untoward had happened.

Suddhodana was the first to reach the spot. He was surprised to see eight to ten maidens picnicking there. They were all crying, extremely terrified. One of them, apparently sixteen years old and the most beautiful one among them, was beseeching others not to cry. On knowing that there had been no human casualty, Suddhodana was relieved. However, he could not stop himself from getting attracted to the maiden who was exhibiting such courage.

Suddhodana was twenty-seven years old then. As he was always busy, he had not been able to develop any liking for a maiden. In fact, he had never bestowed any care for girls. It appeared as though this was the first incident that taught him how beautiful and patient some girls could be. He sensed strange fascination for this maiden. He drove his horse towards her. The maiden extended ordinary curtsies to him, and asked, Dear Sir! Whoever you are, gather your kill and take your way. My friends are panicked.

Suddhodana said with modesty, I regret that we disrupted your entertainment. I beg your pardon.

In the meantime, other brothers reached the spot. Amitodana, the youngest one, hopped off his horse and gathered the writhing deer. Oh, what a fat deer!, he exclaimed, It’s heavy.

Dhautodana too alighted from his stallion and helped his younger brother pull the deer. They found it extremely difficult to drag the writhing animal; so Amitodana pulled his khukuri from the scabbard dangling down his girdle and chopped off the deer’s head. The deer’s body wriggled quite frantically for some time. Some of the maidens closed their eyes, unable to stand the macabre spectacle.

Amitodana poked in a bantering tone, That’s why they are girls. They don’t have big hearts. See; they are just this big. He signalled the small size of their hearts with his tightened fist.

Seeing this, the courageous girl gave him a squinted look, but soon turned away, apparently thinking the boy was not worth her time. Another girl, seemingly quite shrewd, could not stop herself.

What do you boast of, lifting a deer killed by someone else? She asked, Aren’t you ashamed? Such big talk from an infant! It seems your lips are still dribbling with milk.

The youngest brother was just fifteen years of age; he still had the impertinence that characterises a teen. He charged back bluntly, O, how you say, ‘someone else’? My own brother shot it down. Who do you think you are?

Suddhodana interfered to contain the situation, Please, pardon. He is still very young. Moreover, it was not my manliness that worked alone in this work. If my brothers hadn’t surrounded and goaded the beast, I wouldn’t have been able to shoot it.

The second brother said, We the Shakyas do not fight over the question of ‘mine’ and ‘yours’. Besides, we are brothers from the same family.

The third one said, He is our eldest brother Suddhodana.

The fourth one spoke, "He has just been elected the raja – king of our principality."

The youngest one added, "And soon, he will be declared the maharaja - the prime king."

All of a sudden, a different hue started rippling in the eyes of the maidens. With determined demeanours, they stared straight at Suddhodana, and their eyes met. The shrewd girl blushed with coyness and let her head drop a little. The other maiden, who had fired blunt replies, was in a similar predicament. She too stood mute, their head down.

Dear readers!

This is a tale from the sixth century Before Christ. Those days, the Shakyas had their principality called Kapilavastu to the south of the Himalayas, north of a chiefdom called Pawa Kushinara, flanked by Rohini River in the west and Rapti River in the east. The chief of all the chiefdoms called janapadas were called rajas, meaning kings, who were democratically elected in the chiefdom. From among those rajas, one would later be elected as the maharaja, the prime king. Those days, such chiefdoms did not exist only in Kapilavastu, the principality of the Shakyas in Aryavarta– the land of the Aryans in the south of Himalayas; they also existed in the neighbouring Ramagarha principality of the Koliyas, Brijji of the Gyatrikas and the Lichchhavis, Mathura of the Surasenas and Pawas, Kushinara of the Mallas, Samsumargiri of the Garva, Pippalivana of the Mauryas, Allakappa of the Bulis, Kesputra of the Kalamas etc. All these principalities, like Kapilavastu, had the provisions for electing rajas for villages, and one maharaja as the prime king above all.

The ancestors of Suddhodana were not from a royal, aristocratic or rich family. His grandfather Jaya Sena and his father Sinha Hanu were from peasant families. His mother Kachchana was an ordinary woman from the neighbouring chiefdom of Koliya. Suddhodana’s family had made a lot of progress in agriculture by dint of Suddhodana’s valour and the support of his strong brothers. Due mainly to the popularity of Suddhodana, his first sister was married to Suppabuddha, a raja of Koliya. His younger sister Pratima was married away to an ordinary Shakya man from Kapilavastu.

The maidens out here had come for picnicking from Devadaha, Koliya. In their chiefdom, Suddhodana was known as a hero. When the same man stood in front of them all of a sudden, the maidens were dumbfounded. No one could utter a single word.

Amitodana, the youngest of the brothers, addressed the maidens, What’s this? Did anything get stuck in your throats?

One of the girls volunteered to speak, "O raja of the Shakyas! We are girls from Koliya, the land of your maternal relatives. We came here for a sylvan expedition. O what a sweet coincidence came about! The girls who exchanged words with you are Mayadevi and Prajapati Gautami, the youngest and the eldest daughters of Anjana and Sulakshana. As you know, your marriage is being negotiated with Prajapati Gautami. By that token, you are our own relative."

The maiden stepped forward and greeted Suddhodana and his brothers collectively. Prajapati Gautami and Mayadevi too greeted all the brothers, rather coyly. Other maidens too greeted, some calling Suddhodana ‘Jwain Saheb’ and some ‘Bhinaju’, words used with reverence to a brother-in-law. When the real identity was revealed, the brothers of Suddhodana too became soft with the girls. Each of them exchanged courtesies with the maidens in a modest way. A spell of seriousness overwhelmed each of them.

Amitodana, the youngest of the brothers, came forth and said, What then did you say earlier? Of the two daughters of Anjana, which one are the elder and which younger?

The maiden laughed and replied in a soft tone, I am sorry for the slip. Mayadevi is the younger one, and Prajapati Gautami the elder.¹

In other words, the maiden who had impressed Suddhodana with her patience and beauty was Mayadevi, and the one who looked shrewder than her mates was Prajapati Gautami. Suddhodana was rendered mute. He looked at Mayadevi once again with care and said to himself, ‘Oh, what a beauty! How well-behaved! How patient and decently beautiful! Oh, how pretty she looks! Is it by dint of her modestly? Or of the beauty?’

Suddhodana was lost for a while, asking himself several of such questions. His eyes rested on Mayadevi. Mayadevi was eighteen then, and till date, no man had stared at her in this way. She felt quite awkward as though she were smothered. So, she dragged herself behind her sister Prajapati, who was standing nearby. Everyone standing there felt that Suddhodana was tantalized into dead silence and Mayadevi was nervous, but they were all quiet. They just continued studying the faces of Suddhodana and Mayadevi.

Amitodana, outspoken as ever, broke the silence and said, Why is everyone gawking like this?

All were startled. Their eyes turned towards Amitodana.

Amitodana added, Now we are roasting the colon and the liver, and the would-be in-laws will eat together. Facing the maidens, he rubbed his belly and said, Hunger is poking my belly.

Everyone laughed at this hilarious proposal of the youngest. One of the maidens said, "There’s nothing to laugh at. Whatever he said is right. We have chiura and gundruk ² pickle with us. We shall hold a great feast here."

Another one interfered, Is it that we’ll devour the colon because we have never tasted meat in the past? No, we don’t need it. What do you say, Mayadevi Gautami? What’s your opinion?

Prajapati Gautami was nineteen years old at the time. She never hesitated if she had to say anything. She had the art and courage to give befitting replies as were expected of her. She said, Why should we wrangle over a child’s words? I beseech humbly, please you all go on with your hunting and leave us alone to entertain in our own ways.

Amitodana did not like the way she called him a ‘child’; he replied outright, Oh, does that mean I’m slighted because I’m small?

The girls laughed out once again. One of them fired a straight reply, No, it’s not like that. Go home and devour whole of the colon.

Amitodana fired a rejoinder, My goodness; what a sharp tongue!

Both the parties burst out into peals of laughter.

Suddhodana threw his eyes upon everyone and said, O ladies of Koliya! Though my youngest brother said it in a jocular way, whatever he said is quite right. The bravery of five of us wouldn’t suffice. If you had not been here, we would never have been able to kill the deer. Because you were here, it was stranded and I got the chance to shoot it down. So, you too have contributed in the hunting. Therefore, we will give half of the deer to you; it’s up to you whether you’ll eat it here or take it home.

All the brothers aired their consent, Brother is right!

Eighteen-year-old Mayadevi, who was hiding behind Prajapati, conjured courage and said, But we can have our dissent in the decision, because we didn’t have our hand in this hunting game. It was a sheer coincidence that we were on the way of the deer. We have no claim on the kill.

This made Suddhodana even more impressed with determined Mayadevi. He kept staring at her with looks of approval, though he uttered no word. The fourth brother Dhautodana said, Can’t we offer a gift from our side?

Prajapati Gautami answered with equal boldness, Thank you for the goodwill. We didn’t come here expecting any meat. We came to entertain ourselves. Please do not take me otherwise; we can, in the present situation, neither accept your gift, nor dine together with strange men.

The youngest brother interfered, "Listen to the fact now. We are not ‘strangers’ as you said. You are people from our maternal home. Now comes the question of your inability to accept this gift from us! I have a way out. We shall carry the deer from Lumbini up to your location on a horseback. It’s less than two yojana³ of distance, I think. Come; I shall lift it right away."

Mayadevi said, That’s not what we mean. We have come to entertain in our own ways and not for hunting. Listen to my sister carefully. We have no relation that requires us to accept your offer. Yes, we are from your mother’s village; that’s all. You should not be annoyed at this.

Addressing Mayadevi, Suddhodana said, O Mayadevi, the daughter of Anjana! We are impressed with your sensibility, manners and courtesy. Your amicable demeanours conform to the cultured ways of Koliya chiefdom. Do pardon us, if any one of us has hurt you. We take leave of you with our kill.

The third brother addressed his fourth and the youngest brothers, Brothers! Bring that deer and place it on my horse. I shall carry it.

The third brother was the strongest of all. His horse was not that agile but it was quite strong. So, it was always the third brother who carried the meat. The fourth and the youngest brothers loaded the deer on the horse. The rider found it quite heavy. Making his away amidst the branching antlers, he said, O, such a heavy deer! Upon reaching the river there, let’s rip its belly, take the inside out and carry only the meat. That will make the load lighter.

Amitodana said, Good idea. Let’s roast the colon there, and eat. What can we do; time didn’t favour these girls! They say they cannot dine with unknown men.

All burst into laughter once again. Amitodana added, "Oh, their ‘expertise in manners’ made all the difference. I too missed chiura and gundruk pickle. What could we do?"

At this, Prajapati laughed out. She seemed quite impressed with the youngest of the brothers. She picked a papyrus leaf from a nearby tree, placed some gundruk pickle on it along with a big pouch of chiura, and handing it over to the youngest brothers, she said, "Brother, here you are! Take gundruk pickle and chiura, and eat to your fill."

The boy hurriedly accepted the gift but did not forget to comment, Does it mean, we lack manners and we can accept gift from strangers?

Prajapati stroked his hair and said in an appreciative tone, Oh, what a sharp mouth this stout boy has! You’re still quite small; the question of mannerism does not apply to you.

So what? Can you pull anyone’s hair for that? said the boy, mimicking her style.

Prajapati hurriedly pulled her hand away from the boy’s head, thinking that he was inviting rebuke for her. Everyone laughed again. The boy bowed and said in utter humility, I beg your pardon; I was just kidding.

The faces of both of them turned worth watching. Mayadevi could not help giggling; she covered her mouth and giggled. On seeing her, Suddhodana, who too was laughing, changed his looks. His own laughter turned into thin air out of utter fascination for Mayadevi but no one noticed this. In fact, he had lost his mind in attraction for Mayadevi.

One of the maidens noticed Suddhodana’s predicaments and said, What do you say, Your Majesty? Shouldn’t we give authentication to this proximity?

Suddhodana shook as though he were a thief startled on being caught red-handed. The girl added with utter humility, You must now be planning a feast and entertainment together. After all, our seniors have sent the proposal to Your Majesty!

The hilarious environment suddenly turned grave. Mayadevi and Prajapati Gautami looked more serious than others. The boys looked at their eldest brother with solemn eyes. Their smiles showed clues of approval.

Suddhodana peeked at Mayadevi once again. She was still hiding behind Prajapati. Prajapati was herself quite submissive.

Suddhodana broke the still silence with his grave words, O ladies from Koliya! In fact, we were so busy with state affairs that we found no time to think on this issue. Else, what could have barred us from extending relation with civilized and cultured people like you from a state with which we have had historical relation? We pray you: do not take this delay otherwise. I give you my word; we shall move in this direction as early as possible. For now, we take leave of you.

In a serious but joyous atmosphere, the two parties shared curtsies with one another, and took leave.

The brothers rode their horses and galloped away, and soon were out of sight along the descending pathway. The maidens hastened with their picnic preparations. However, each one of them was lost in their own thoughts.

—o—

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The Rise of Suddhodana

Dear readers!

Those days, there used to be a Sangha—a National Assembly—of the chiefdoms organized to make governance easy. The Shakya Sangha had the participation of the Shakya youths above the age of twenty.⁴ In it, from ordinary Shakya members to raja and mahajaja and the soldiers of the Sangha enjoyed the same voting right. The Sangha used to decide every affair, unanimously as far as practicable. The maharaja used to act as a coordinator or moderator in the Sangha. He did have voting right but that seldom was a decisive vote. He was obliged to listen to everyone’s opinion. He did not have the right to foist his will upon anyone else’s. Once elected the raja or the maharaja, an individual could remain in the post only as long as he was strong in physique, character, morality and intellect. If any other person appeared more capable in the confederacy, the existing ruler was expected to quit his post.

Suddhodana was famous right from his youthful days for his wisdom, strength, education and skills in arms. The story goes back to some time when Suddhodana had just crossed twenty and had become a member of the Sangha. In the battle against the principality of Koshala he exhibited extraordinary valour. Though the Shakyas did not retrieve their territory that was in foreign occupation for quite a long time, the Koshala emperor Mahakoshala was extremely impressed with Shakya chiefdom, particularly with Suddhodana’s valour. As a result, he granted full freedom for the Shakya’s state, except for the requirement to pay a nominal tax.

No matter how progressive the Shakya Confederacy was in terms of civilization and culture, it never prioritized muscular strength. As a result, the Shakyas bestowed less value to valour and gallantry, making the entire confederacy strategically weak. Added to it was the fact that Koshala had already molested their sovereignty. So, whenever the Koshala emperor performed a yagya—a sacrificial religious ritual—the Shakya Confederacy had to supply as tax the animals required for sacrificing in the yagya. To the Shakyas, the Koshalas shared the avarice of divine virtues and possibility of getting into heaven after death by dint of their share in the ritual. But then, the Shakyas paid no importance to such rituals and religious activities; so, they did not want to lose their cattle for such rituals for the unproven virtue or pleasure in heaven. They could not engage the Koshala emperor militarily, either. So instead of going for a combat, they used to gift the weak, sick, old and the dying animals to the Koshala emperor, hoarding the healthy and the robust ones.

The emperor of Koshala was all set to perform a big yagya this time. Since a small herd of animals won’t suffice, the soldiers were scattered in every direction, pulling oxen, cows, buffaloes, goats, chicken, horses, donkeys or anything they could lay their hands on. This sent a reign of terror in the Shakya chiefdoms. Since the oxen had been dragged away, they could not cultivate their fields anymore. There was some gesture of resistance, but it could do nothing in the face of the heavily-armed Koshala army.

But, dear readers! The situation was not the same as before. Valorous and wise Suddhodana had grown into an adult. He decided to fight and die instead of starving to death due to the stoppage of farming in the absence of oxen.

He immediately called for his brothers and his young friends. Hundreds of young men came out with whatever weapon they could procure from their homes, and they charged out to resist the advancing Koshala army. Seeing the young men march like that, women and middle-aged men too followed them, shouting and hollering.

In fact, the Koshala army was not there to fight; it had merely come to loot the animals. In the first place, the soldiers were quite few in number. Seeing the advancing Shakya youths, they abandoned the animals and fled.

For the first time, the Shakyas realised that they could safeguard their self-esteem if they rebelled. They celebrated the victory, but Suddhodana was aware that they had not won anything. He knew, the annoyed Koshalas would return with a bigger army and the Shakyas would have to wait with better preparations to combat them.

He summoned all rajas and princes of the different chiefdoms in the principality to gather at the Assembly Hall. Accordingly, a meeting was held where Suddhodana appealed the youths of the confederacy to get ready to fight. But most of them opined that they won’t be able to tackle the Koshala army consisting of thousands of fighters. Some of them even opined that it was wrong for the Shakyas to have irked the Koshala army.

Dear readers!

For quite a long time, the Shakya Confederacy remained under the security zone of Koshala. So the Shakyas never felt the need to have their own army. Moreover, even if they had wanted, the Koshalas would not have permitted them to have an army. As a result, the Shakya Confederacy was quite weak in combating power, and by the same token, it was next to nothing. The fighters had forgotten the art of using their weapons. They practised the use of only those weapons deemed necessary for their entertaining feats. Everyone did not share the same interest in warfare; so, they possessed only ordinary weapons and only a few households kept them.

The elderly folks said, Our youths are not trained. We might possess the zeal to combat the enemy, but we don’t have the art or skill of fighting. As for weapons, we are extremely weak. It’s sure, we all will be eliminated.

Suddhodana was of a different view, however. He said, "Please bear in mind; a fatal attack is being meted out upon us, and it matters little whether or not we love to fight. It’s sure, we will all be killed. You might be feeling, we the youths invited death in a sheer feat of indolence, but think we never had a life. Do you consider ourselves living, when we are passing time in such an abject state of deplorability? Every time the Koshalas have their yagya, we have been meekly facing death foisted upon us by our own inaction. Along with our animals, we are losing a lot of other resources, and we are sacrificing for a faith we do not believe in. We have always been hapless, too weak to revolt against this injustice. This way, our esteem has always been denigrated. Instead of facing such death of inaction every time, it’s far more honourable for us to fight and die the death of honour, if destiny plans it so."

All the members of the assembly grew serious. Suddhodana continued with added modesty, O great Shakya courtiers! Our death in the war shall cleanse us from the blight of disgraceful deaths we faced so far. We are now all set to kill such shameful demise ourselves. We may die but we shall be attaining martyrdom trying to safeguarding our honour. That death shall be a glorious death of prestige. In the battle, if ever we die, we shall be accepting death which shall rinse us of the age-old discredit of weakness. For that reason, O great courtiers, we should be ready to face a hero’s death for once, and free ourselves from the predicament of dying every day trapped in the dilemma of cowardice. Come on; rise for your honour! Even if we die, our self-esteems shall win. We shall be victorious even by accepting death.

All the Shakya courtiers were impressed by the speech of Suddhodana. They could not utter a single word of dissent though they still bore in mind the traumatic impact of war.

Dear readers!

The confederacy of the Shakyas that kept itself aloof from strategic issues and war, was either engrossed in its own agricultural activities, or turned towards the wave of self-introspection that was in fashion those days. The youths, who did have to witness the permutations of strategic and security issues, remained glued to spiritual practices like self-introspection. As a result, intellect was more cherished in the society than strength. The Shakyas, who engaged in such practices were, therefore, quite weak in security preparations. And the morale required for it too was at its nadir.

However, Suddhodana’s stirring speech on the need for safeguarding their honour aroused their intellectual esteem. They were attracted, by mind and intellect, to what Suddhodana said although it was for them a spiritual turn. Accordingly, they became ready to burn themselves for protecting their personal esteem.

Suddhodana took the courtiers’ silence as a gesture of consent. He stopped his lecture for a while. But the courtiers were impatiently waiting for him to continue.

Suddhodana took a long breath of satisfaction and added, "O great Shakya courtiers! I talked about accepting death of honour! And I knew this confederacy is ready for the great act. O great Shakya jewels! The greatest weapon in the world is courage—that courage, which remains immune to the fear of death. What else have you got to lose, besides life? When we think we have nothing to lose, we gain strength then and there. The Koshalas will never be able to vanquish us anymore.

O great Shakya courtiers! I am not merely talking about self-introspection. War is something that reaches a finale only through action. For that, we must march with the conviction that we haven’t been defeated yet. I appealed you all to come out and be ready to accept death if required, and you all got ready for it. However, I am not encouraging you to enter the defence line of the Koshalas blindly. That would be like moths flying in flames. We don’t have war-skills and training of arms because we never concentrated on such matters. But we have had rigorous exercise of our intellect and art of contemplation naturally bestowed by nature upon mankind. We shall enter the battlefield with this intellectual experience. O great courtiers! The war shall not be an assault; it shall be a war of defence, and the entire generation shall know this fact. Therefore, more than strength that comes into use in headlong collision, we will be needing wisdom here.

All the courtiers spoke in a single voice, We endorse your proposal for war. We are ready to slay and get slain.

The Shakya Confederacy soon started making preparations for the battle, under the leadership of Suddhodana. They estimated that the enemy would take less than three days to cross an expanse of fifty-six yojana between Shravasti and Kapilavastu to reach up to them. They were under the compulsion to finish all the preparations within that timeframe.

Even women, children and elderly folks volunteered to help in the preparation. Overnight, they dug innumerable ditches along the path the army of the foe would march. In them, they placed countless sharp spines made from bamboo splinters and covered the ditches with turf, dry leaves and straw. The security ditches around the city fort had been running dry for a long time; they filled each of them with water from Rohini River drawn through a canal, and in them too, they placed sharp spines, head-up. Those were traditional water ditches in appearance but in reality, they were death-traps. They piled up innumerable stones, bricks and logs on the roofs and front-yards of their homes. The minors and the aged ones were asked to remain alert on the rooftops and windows. The middle-aged people were instructed to remain at high places, with long and slender woods with sharpened ends. The young girls were beseeched to station themselves at entry points with bows and arrows. The young boys were commanded to remain scattered at different positions on the road, laced with khukuris, swords, bows-and-arrows and conches in hands, ready to partake in the battle that could break out any moment.

Thereafter, they ordered each household to bring its livestock—oxen, cows, buffaloes, goats, sheep, fowls, ducks, horses, donkeys, pigs or whatever they had—inside the city of Kapilavastu. The animals were let loose everywhere inside the city. The four entrances to the city fort were closed. At the mouth of the entrances from inside, big boulders were placed so that when the entrances were opened, the animals would not be able to run away.

In the meantime, Mahakoshala, the emperor of Koshala, sitting ready to commence his yagya any moment, came to know that his army set out to fetch animals for sacrifice had not only returned empty-handed, but also had faced revolt from the Shakyas. He lost his temper and immediately ordered ten thousand soldiers, Go; kill anyone you meet on the way and come back with animals.

Mahakoshala did not have the slightest clue of Suddhodana’s preparations. Ten thousands of his soldiers headed towards Kapilavastu, armed with shields, swords, harpoons, hooks, bludgeons, and bows-and-arrows.

The Koshala army, entering Kapilavastu with a belittling attitude against the Shakyas, started bumping into pits dug everywhere on the road, one after another. Many of them fell into the pits that were innumerable, and present at every step. Many died, pricked by the spines in the pits. Some lay there, too badly injured to walk and run. The soldiers could not see the pits because of the crowd they themselves made; instead, they too fell into the pits, before making out what was happening there. Many died in the pits crushed by their own fellow soldiers falling from above.

Eight thousand soldiers that were spared entered the town. The town was safe inside the closed fort. Outside, nothing was done in defence. The invading army even doubted whether the Shakyas had deserted the town and entered the forest for fear of upcoming invasion. Some of the invading soldiers even went to see whether the Shakyas were in their fields and farms. But there was neither a human, nor any animal there.

The Koshala army was perplexed. There were no men to fight with, nor was there any animal to loot. After some time, their attention was drawn by the sound of the animals bellowing inside the fort. They inferred that the Shakyas had fled away to the forest, locking their animals inside the fort. They were happy, for they would be acquiring all those beasts without having to fight.

Then, the Koshala soldiers started mulling over the idea of breaking one of the entrances leading to the fort. In front of the entrance, there used to be a big wooden bridge always in a raised position, and when needed, it could be manually lowered and laid across the water-filled ditch, allowing the passers an access. Be it to open the entrance or to lower the bridge, they first had to pass through the water-filled ditch. The soldiers, adept on using muscular force, fell into the ditch one after another, only to be pricked and hurt by the innumerable spines placed under water. They were driven beyond senses by the shrewdness of the Shakyas in such war tactics.

But anyhow, clearing the spines from its paths, the Koshala army made its way to the threshold of the entrance. The door, however, was not easy to break through. So, the soldiers decided to jump in from over the wall, unlatch the door from inside, and lower the bridge. There was no obstruction anywhere. The soldiers made a human pyramid, one standing upon the shoulder of the other, and made their way up to the steeple of the fort. There too, they saw no impediment on the other side. The town was devoid of any human being, and everywhere in the long expanse of the open ground, there stood animals and only animals, let loose to loiter everywhere.

A soldier standing on the steeple shouted, Soldiers! The Shakyas have, in fact, deserted the town. They happened to have locked their livestock inside.

Thereafter, the soldiers jumped into the other side of the wall and opened the entrance of the fort from inside. Inside, upon a ditch, there was the lever that could lower and stretch the bridge. Some committed themselves to the task. No sooner had the bridge been laid straight and the entrance opened than the soldiers started squeezing in, towards the city.

Every door in the city had been locked. The animals were heard mooing at a distance inside the fort. The soldiers rushed in, squeezing through their own crowd, to enter the fort. In that part of the town, the animals had been set free to move on their own accord, everywhere. The soldiers started selecting the healthy and robust animals and goading them out of the fort. When innumerable soldiers started goading the animals one after another in an indiscriminate fashion, the animals were agitated and startled. The lawless soldiers, inebriated by the act now, started bothering the animals even more, and sadistically enjoying the game.

Almost all the Koshala troops had entered the city now. Right at this moment, from one corner of the road, Suddhodana blew his conch from his hideout. Alarmed by the conch-blow, the animals became even more unruly, and started running everywhere. Another Shakya youth blew his conch from the direction where the animals were rushing, driving the animals into yet another direction. This stampede of the animals from one direction to another crushed many Koshala soldiers that were in between, and some died. Another youth blew his conch from yet another direction, sending the animal movement completely wild and uncontrolled. Soon there were sounds of conches coming from every direction.

You can now imagine the condition of the Koshala soldiers, initially intent on entertaining themselves, but now caught between the cacophony of blowing conches and bellowing animals in every street of the town, and the indiscriminate movement of the beasts, trampling everything that came their way. The animals on the road continue to be terrified; their stampede went unimpeded. The soldiers caught in between continued to be pushed, caught on the horns and crushed.

Many soldiers turned helpless, finding no way out, while others ran for life, trying to reach out to the side of the streets for safety. Upon those who came to the roadside for safety, stones, bricks and logs were now thrown by the elders and minors hiding on roofs