ABBHYANTARA JĀTAKA
This story the Master told in Jetavana is about the Elder Sariputta giving mango juice to the Sister Bimbadevi. When the Supreme Buddha inaugurated the universal reign of religion while living in a room at Vesali, the chief wife of Gotama, along with five hundred members of the Sakiya clan, asked for initiation. They received initiation and full orders. Afterwards, the five hundred Sisters became saints upon hearing the preaching of Nandaka.
Later, when the Master was living near Savatthi, the mother of Rahula thought to herself, “My husband, upon embracing the religious life, has become omniscient; my son too has become a religious and lives with him. What am I to do in the midst of the household? I will enter this life and go to Savatthi, and I will live looking upon the Supreme Buddha and my son continually.”
So she betook herself to a nunnery, entered the order, and went to live in a cell at Savatthi, in the company of her teachers and preceptors, beholding the Master and her beloved son. The novice Rahula came and saw his mother.
One day, the Nun was afflicted with flatulence. When her son came to see her, she could not meet him, but some others informed him that she was ill. Then he went in and asked his mother, “What ought you to take?”
“Son,” said she, “at home this pain used to be cured by mango juice flavored with sugar; but now we live by begging, and where can we get it?”
The novice replied, “I’ll get it for you,” and departed.
Now, the preceptor of his reverence Rahula was the Captain of the Faith, his teacher was the great Moggallana, his uncle was the Elder Ananda, and his father was the Supreme Buddha; thus, he had great fortune. However, he went to no one else save only his preceptor; and after greeting him, stood before him with a sad look.
“Why do you seem sad, Rahula?” asked the Elder.
“Sir,” he replied, “my mother is ill with flatulence.”
“What must she take?”
“Mango juice and sugar do her good.”
“All right, I’ll get some; don’t trouble about it.”
The next day, he took the lad to Savatthi, and seating him in a waiting room, went up to the palace. The king of Kosala bade the Elder be seated. At that very moment, the gardener brought a basket of sweet mangoes, ripe for food. The king removed the skin, sprinkled sugar, crushed them up himself, and filled the Elder’s bowl. The Elder returned to the place of waiting and gave them to the novice, bidding him give them to his mother; and so he did. No sooner had the Nun eaten than her pain was cured.
The king also sent messengers, saying, “The Elder did not sit here to eat the mango juice. Go and find out whether he gave it to anyone.” The messenger went along with the Elder, discovered the truth, and returned to report to the king.
The king thought, “If the Master were to return to worldly life, he would be a universal monarch; the novice Rahula would be his treasure, the Crown Prince; the holy Sister would be his treasure, the Empress; and all the universe would belong to them. I must go and attend upon them. Now that they are living nearby, there is no time to be lost.”
So from that day, he continually gave mango syrup to the Sister.
It became known among the Brothers how the Elder gave mango syrup to the holy Sister. One day, they fell a-talking in the Hall of Truth:
“Friend, I hear that the Elder Sariputta comforted Sister Bimbadevi with mango syrup.”
The Master came in and asked, “What are you talking about now?”
When they told him, he said, “This is not the first time, Brothers, that Rahula’s mother was comforted with mango syrup by the Elder; the same happened before,” and he told them an old-world tale.
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in a brahmin family living in a village of Kasi. When he grew up, he was educated at Takkasila, settled down into family life, and on the death of his parents embraced the religious life. After that he remained in the region of Himalaya, cultivating the Faculties and the Attainments. A body of sages gathered round him, and he became their teacher.
At the end of a long he came down from the hills to get salt and seasoning, and in the course of his wanderings arrived at Benares, where he took up his abode in a park. And at the glory of the virtue of this company of holy men the palace of Sakka shook. Sakka reflected, and perceived what it was. Thought he, “I will do an injury to their dwelling; then their stay will he disturbed; they will be too much distressed to have tranquillity of mind. Then I shall be comfortable again.” As he bethought him how to do it, he hit upon a plan. “I will enter the chamber of the chief queen, just at the middle watch of the night, and hovering in the air, I will say—‘Lady, if you eat a midmost mango, you will conceive a son, who shall become a universal monarch.’ She will tell the king, and he will send to the orchard for a mango fruit: I will cause all the fruit to disappear. They will tell the king that there is none, and when he asks who eats it, they will say ‘The ascetics’.” So just in the middle watch, he appeared in the queen’s chamber, and hovering in the air, revealed his godhead, and conversing with her, repeated the first two stanzas—
“There grows a tree, with fruit divine thereon;
Men clepe it Middlemost: and if one be
With child, and eat of it, she shall anon
Bear one to hold the whole wide earth in fee.“Lady, you are a mighty Queen indeed;
The King, your husband, holds you lief and dear.
Bid him procure the mango for your need,
And he the Midmost fruit will bring you here.”
These stanzas did Sakka recite to the queen; and then bidding her be careful, and make no delay, but tell the matter to the king herself, he encouraged her, and went back to his own place.
Next day, the queen lay down, as though ill, giving instructions to her maidens. The king sat upon his throne, under the white umbrella, and looked on at the dancing. Not seeing his queen, he asked a handmaid where she was.
“The queen is sick,” replied the girl.
So the king went to see her; and sitting by her side, stroked her back, and asked, “What is the matter, lady?”
“Nothing,” said she, “but that I have a craving for something.”
“What is it you want, lady?” he asked again.
“A middle mango, my lord.”
“Where is there such a thing as a middle mango?”
“I don’t know what a middle mango is; but I know that I shall die if I don’t get one.”
“All right, we will get you one; don’t trouble about it.”
So the king consoled her, and went away. He took his seat upon the royal divan, and sent for his courtiers. “My queen has a great craving for a middle mango. What is to be done?” said he.
Some one told him, “A middle mango is one which grows between two others. Send to your park, and find a mango growing between two others; pluck its fruit and let us give it to the queen.” So the king sent men to do after this manner.
But Sakka by his power made all the fruit disappear, as though it had been eaten. The men who came for the mangoes searched the whole park through, and not a mango could they find; so back they went to the king, and told him that mangoes there were none.
“Who is it eats the mangoes?” asked the king.
“The ascetics, my lord.”
“Give the ascetics a drubbing, and bundle them out of the park!” he commanded. The people heard and obeyed: Sakka’s wish was fulfilled. The queen lay on and on, longing for the mango.
The king could not think what to do. He gathered his courtiers and his brahmins, and asked them, “Do you know what a middle mango is?”
Said the brahmins: “My lord, a middle mango is the portion of the gods. It grows in Himalaya, in the Golden Cave. So we have heard by immemorial tradition.”
“Well, who can go and get it?”
“A human being cannot go; we must send a young parrot.”
At that time there was a fine young parrot in the king’s family, as big as the nave of the wheel in the princes’ carriage, strong, clever, and full of sharp devices. This parrot the king sent for, and thus addressed him,
“Dear parrot, I have done a great deal for you: you live in a golden cage; you have sweet grain to eat on a golden dish; you have sugared water to drink. There is something I want you to do for me.”
“Speak on, my lord,” said the parrot.
“Son, my queen has a craving for a middle mango; this mango grows in the Himalaya, on the Golden Mountain; it is the portion of the gods, and no human being can go there. You must bring the fruit back from thence.”
“Very good, my king, I will,” said the parrot. Then the king gave him sweetened grain to eat on a golden plate, sugar water to drink, and anointed him beneath the wings with oil refined a hundred times. Then he took him in both hands, and standing at a window, let him fly away.
The parrot, on the king’s errand, flew through the air, beyond the ways of men, until he came to some parrots dwelling in the first hill-region of the Himalaya. “Where is the middle mango?” he asked them. “Tell me the place.”
“We know not,” said they, “but the parrots in the second range of hills will know.”
The parrot listened and flew to the second range. After that, he went on to the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth ranges. There too, the parrots said, “We do not know, but those in the seventh range will know.” So he went on there and asked where the middle mango tree grew.
“In such and such a place, on the Golden Hill,” they said.
“I have come for the fruit of it,” said he. “Guide me thither and procure the fruit for me.”
“That is the portion of King Vessavana. It is impossible to get near it. The whole tree, from roots upward, is encircled with seven iron nets; it is guarded by thousands of millions of Kumbhanda goblins. If they see anyone, he’s done for. The place is like the fire of dissolution and the fire of hell. Do not ask such a thing!”
“If you will not go with me, then describe the place to me,” said he.
So they told him the way to go. He listened carefully to their instructions. He did not show himself by day, but at dead of night, when the goblins were asleep, he approached the tree and began softly to climb one of its roots. Suddenly, clink! went the iron net—the goblins awoke, saw the parrot, and seized him, crying, “Thief!” Then they discussed what was to be done with him.
Said one, “I’ll throw him into my mouth and swallow him!”
Said another, “I’ll crush him, knead him in my hands, and scatter him in bits!”
Said a third, “I’ll split him in two, cook him on the coals, and eat him!”
The parrot heard them deliberating. Without fear, he addressed them, “I say, goblins, whose men are you?”
“We belong to King Vessavana.”
“Well, you have one king for your master, and I have another for mine. The king of Benares sent me here to fetch a fruit of the middle mango tree. Then and there I gave my life to my king, and here I am. He who loses his life for parents or master is born at once in heaven. Therefore I shall pass at once from this animal form to the world of the gods!”
And he repeated the third stanza:
“Whatever be the place which they attain
Who, by heroic self-forgetfulness,
Strive with all zeal a master’s end to gain—
To that same place I soon shall win access.”
After this fashion, he discoursed, repeating the stanza. The goblins listened and were pleased in their hearts. “This is a righteous creature,” said they. “We must not kill him—let him go!” So they let him go and said, “Parrot, you’re free! Go unharmed out of our hands!”
“Do not let me return empty-handed,” said the parrot. “Give me a fruit off the tree!”
“Parrot,” they said, “it is not our business to give you fruit from this tree. All the fruit is marked. If even one fruit is taken wrongly, we shall lose our lives. If Vessavana sees this once, a thousand goblins are broken up and scattered like parched peas on a hot plate. So we cannot give you any. But we will tell you where you can get some.”
“I care not who gives it,” said the parrot. “But the fruit I must have. Tell me where I may get it.”
“In one of the tortuous paths of the Golden Mountain lives an ascetic by the name of Jotirasa. He watches the sacred fire in a leaf-thatched hut called Kancana-patti, or Goldleaf—a favorite of Vessavana—and sends him constantly four fruits from the tree. Go to him.”
The parrot took his leave and came to the ascetic. He greeted him and sat down on one side. The ascetic asked,
“Where have you come from?”
“From the king of Benares.”
“Why have you come?”
“Master, our Queen has a great craving for the fruit of the middle mango, and that is why I am here. The goblins would not give me any themselves, but sent me to you.”
“Sit down, then, and you shall have one,” said the ascetic. Then came the four fruits which Vessavana used to send. The ascetic ate two of them, gave the parrot one to eat, and when this was eaten, he hung the fourth by a string around the parrot’s neck and let him go.
“Off with you, now!” said he.
The parrot flew back and gave it to the Queen. She ate it and satisfied her craving, but still, she had no son.
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth in these words:
“At that time, Rahula’s mother was the Queen; Ananda was the parrot; Sariputta was the ascetic who gave the mango fruit; and the ascetic who lived in the park was I myself.”
Source : The Jataka , E.B. Cowell and W.H.D. Rouse