The
root image of motion which lies at the heart of what I term the first
sub-discourse of the Dhammapada is reinforced, and given nuanced
evaluation, in manifold ways, as is made clear in the following verses.
Some enter the womb; evil doers go to hell; the virtuous go to
heaven; those free from worldly desires attain Nirvana
This world is dark, only few can see. Like birds escaped from the
net, a few go to heaven.
Therefore, just as the moon follows the path of stars, one should
follow the wise, the intelligent, the learned, the much enduring, the
dutiful, noble; one ought to follow a god and wise man
Him whose thirty-six channels flowing towards the pleasures of sense
are very strong, whose thoughts are set on passion, the waves will carry
away the misguided man.
Men driven on by craving run about like a trapped hare. Bound in its
fetters, they undergo agony for long periods of time, again and again.
Image of motion
The first sub-discourse of the Dhammapada, then, is constructed
around the root image of motion. Similes, metaphors, symbols, turns of
phrase related to the idea of journey, path, arrival, crossing, running,
swiftness, and mobility form a dense tissue which contribute to the
reinforcement of the root image of motion.
The second sub-discourse inscribed in the Dhammapada, in my judgment,
centres on the root image of tranquility. Of the 423 verses gathered in
this poem, about 225, by my count, deal with this image. The opening
verses of the poem, which in many ways, set the tone for the verses that
are to follow, call attention to the need for mental control and
restraint as a mans of achieving tranquility of mind.
Indeed, the final destination of the thoughts, imaginings and
strivings outlined in the Dhammapada is this cherished mental calm.
All that we are is the result of what we have thought, is based on
our thoughts, is made up of our thoughts. If a person speaks or acts
with an evil thought, sorrow will follow him like the wheel that follows
the foot of the ox that draws the cart.
All that we are is the result of what we have thought, made up of out
thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness will
follow him like a shadow that is resolved never to desert him.
The need for control of the senses, which eventually leads to mental
tranquility, is repeatedly underscored in the Dhammapada through
memorable imagery.
As the wind brings down a weakened tree, so indeed does the Tempter
overcome him who lives looking for pleasure, uncontrolled in his senses,
immoderate in food, idle and weak.
As a wind does not bring down a rocky mountain, so the Tempter does
not overthrow him who lives disregarding pleasures, well controlled in
his senses, moderate in food, with faith and strength.
Buddhism
What is interesting about these pairs of verses is that through the
calculated deployment of some of basic images like wind, tree, mountain
culled from nature, the poet has succeeded in calling attention to the
fundamental and guiding tenets of Buddhism.
Another point of interest about these two verses, one that should not
be lost on us – and one that recurs throughout the poem – is that its
clever juxtaposition of the positive and negative, constructive and
destructive, so as to highlight and give added luster to the central
message inscribed in the poem.
This point can be further illustrated by the following pair of
verses.
As rain breaks through an ill-thatched house, so passion breaks
through an unreflective mind.
As rain does not break through a well-thatched house, so passion des
not break through a reflective mind.
Once again, easily to understand juxtaposition, the use of elemental
imagery, serve to impress on the ordinary readers the point that the
poet is labouring to enforce.
Significantly, the chapter from which these verses are taken is
titled Yamakavaggo (The Twin Verses). However, it is important to point
out that this technique of binary illustration is not confined solely to
this chapter. This is indeed a rhetorical strategy pressed into service
throughout the poem by the poet to establish and emphasise his central
theme.
Carnal pleasure
Mental control, abandonment of carnal pleasure, restraint, the
pursuit of virtue invariably results in mental tranquilility. The second
root image of the poem – tranquility – is reinforced by a chain of vivid
locutions.
The wise man, by rousing himself, by dint of earnestness, by
restraint, may make for himself an island which no flood can overwhelm.
Commenting on this poem, Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan says that the wise
person can make for himself an island in the ocean of samsara which no
flood of ignorance and craving can overwhelm.
Although I do not necessarily agree with some of Radhakrishnan’s
observations on Buddhism in general and the Dhammapada in particular, on
this point, the religious symbolic valence that the poem carries, I am
in agreement with his observation.
The following verses, too, serve to call attention to the successful
rhetorical strategies deployed by the poet to emphasize steadfastness,
control and tranquility.
As a solid rock is not shaken by the wind, so wise men do not falter
amidst blame and praise.
Just as a deep lake is smooth and calm, wise men become tranquil
after they have heeded the words of the dhamma.
The gods envy him whose senses are subdued like horses well tamed by
the charioteer, who is free from pride and free from blemishes.
What is interesting about the imagery that organise these verses is
that they are accessible, drawn from the familiar environment and evoke
a ready response in ordinary readers and listeners.
These aesthetics of simplicity is a defining feature of the
Dhammapada. The following verses which are supposed to have been uttered
by the Buddha at the moment that he attained enlightenment, reinforce
this point. here, the builder of the house is to be understood as
craving, desire, passion. it sets in motion the process of rebirth. It
is only by annihilating craving, desire, that one is able to free
oneself from inexorability of the wheel of existence.
Painful birth
I have run through a course of many births looking for the maker of
this dwelling and finding him not; painful is birth again and again.
Now you have been spotted, O maker of the house, you will not build
the house again. All your rafters are broken and your ridge-pole is
destroyed. The mind set on the attainment of nirvana has realised the
extinction of desires.
Once again the theme is the necessity for the putting out of desires
as a means of achieving the supreme tranquility, that of Nirvana.
Throughout the Dhamapada, this second root image related to
tranquility is fed by a cluster of additive tropes. These are but a few
of them.
He who holds back his rising anger like a speeding chariot, him I all
a real charioteer; others but hold the reins.
Cut out the love of self as you would an autumn lily with the hand.
Cherish the path to peace. The site of Nirvana has been indexed by the
Buddha.
Cut down the whole forest of lust not only a unitary tree. When you
have cut down both the forest and its undergrowth, O mendicant, you will
surely attain ultimate freedom.
As a frontier town is well guarded within and without, so let a
person guard himself impenetrably. Do not let the moment slide away, for
they who permit the moments to pass suffer when they are in hell.
This mind of mine would wander formerly as it liked, as it wished, as
it pleased. But I shall now control it thoroughly as the rider holding
the hood controls the rutting elephant.
Tranquillity
What is interesting about these verses is the ease with which the
central point of the importance of tanquillity is made through the
display of accessible imagery. Just as the tenth chapter – The Path –
deals with the root image of motion, the entire chapter twenty-five,
titled Bhikkuvaggo (The Mendicant) addresses questions of mental
restraint and calm, and thereby reinforcing the salience of the root
image of tranquillity. These are a few representative examples from that
chapter.
As the Vassika plant sheds its withered leaves O mendicants, so
should you dispose of passions and hatred.
The mendicant who acts with friendliness and who is calm in the
doctrine of the Buddha, will attain the natural desires and excitements
cease.
A mendicant with a tranquil heart has entered the empty house, feels
more than human delight when he discerns the law clearly.
In these verses, we see how the idea of tranquillity is repeatedly
reinforced. These, then, are the two discourses that constitute the
central poetic discourse of the Dhammapada. As I pointed out earlier,
the first sub-discourse deals with motion and the second with
tranquillity. The one flows natural into the other, all the while
highlighting the latter as the final and privileged destination of the
journey.
After all the poem celebrates the value of the purity of heart, which
indeed is the privileged goal of those dedicated to the pursuit of
spiritual liberation by traversing the path of virtue. A number of
verses contained in the Dhammapada state directly the predominant
message of the poem.
Refraining from all evil, the perfecting of the good, the purifying
of one’s mind, this indeed is the teaching of the Buddha.
Even the gods emulate those who are enlightened and reflective, who
are committed to meditation, who are wise, ad who delight in the peace
of retirement.
Tensions
A point of interest about the two sub-discourses that I have
discussed so far is that very often they appear interactively within the
same verse, giving rise to creative tensions within the fabric of the
text and enhancing the life of the poem.
One need hardly add that this predilection for creative tension with
a text is discernible in the best poetry written both in the East and
the West.
For example, the following verses derive their poetic life and
animating power from this creative tension.
Those who will restrain their mind which travels afar, travels alone,
incorporeal, and which resided in the inner cavern of the heart, will
free themselves from the fetters of death.
The gods envy him whose senses are subdued like horses well tamed by
the charioteer, who is free from hubris and free from blemishes.
The Dhammapada, then, I wish to argue, is a work of conscious
literary art. It is a very different work from the Therigatha that I
discussed some weeks ago; there the focus was on the psychological
complexities of the individual nuns and how their path to liberation was
captured in vivid language and tropes within a confessional setting.
Here, the literary beauty emerges from a complex verbal organisation
some aspects of which I have uncovered in this essay.
By identifying the root images, as indeed I have sought to do, one
can better understand the nature of the verbal organisation, the textual
weave, of this poem. We saw that the poetic discourse of the Dhammapada
consists of two intersecting and mutually constitutive, and root images
that quickened the argument of the poem.
It is indeed interesting to observe that these two sub-discourses and
the central discourse that they support enact that very meeting. In
other words, at a deeper level of analysis, one can describe the
Dhammapada as re-enacting the essential message of Buddhism.
Four Noble Truths
The central message of Buddhism is that the world is full of
suffering, and therefore we need to find the way of eliminating this
suffering or overcoming it. The Four Noble Truths (cattari ariyasaccani)
and the Noble Eightfold Path (ariya attangika magga), which lie at the
heart of Buddhism, highlight this message.
The Four Noble Truths were expounded by the Buddha in his very first
sermon. They are suffering – origin of suffering – cessation of
suffering- and the path leading to the cessation of suffering. And the
path leading to the cessation of suffering is referred to as the Noble
Eightfold Path. The eight categories which constitute this path are:
correct understanding – correct thought – correct action – correct
speech – correct action – correct livelihood – correct effort – correct
mindfulness – correct concentration.
A person who does not comprehend the validity of the Four Noble
Truths and the Nobel Eightfold Path will be born again and again,
incessantly going from birth to both, unable to purge himself or herself
of the craving for life. For such a person, what is in store is a
never-ending motion in the never-ending rounds of life.
On the other hand, people who curb their desires and can see the
truth that the Buddha had expounded through mental concentration they
are able to achieve the supreme bliss of tranquillity or Nirvana.
The never-ending journey through Samsara and the achievement of the
supreme bliss of tranquility through purity of mind are images at the
intellectual center of Buddhism.
It is indeed interesting to observe that not only do many of the
verses in the Dhammapada state this directly but the poem, through its
verbal structure and rhetorical ploys, seems to re-enact it.
The celebrated French philosopher Paul Ricoeur who has written so
perceptively on issues of textual production says that a literary work
is a work of discourse that can be distinguished from every other work
of discourse, especially scientific discourse, in that it brings an
explicit and implicit meaning into productive interaction.
And he also asserts that literature can be regarded as that use of
discourse where several things are specified at the same time and where
the reader is not required to choose among them. In our discussion of
the Dhammapada we saw how the explicit and implicit meanings unite in a
subtle verbal texture.
The central poetic discourse of the Dhammapada is shaped by the power
of one root image – the intermingling of motion and tranquillity.
David Tracy, an eminent scholar of religious studies, maintains that
every main religion of the world is grounded in certain root metaphors.
In the case of Buddhism, that contrast and the logical connection
between motion and tranquility, as exemplified in the Dhammapada,
constitutes this root metaphor.
An interesting aspect of the interplay of motion and tranquillity in
the Dhammapada is the way that these two phenomena are mapped onto the
concepts of body and mind.
To be sure, this is not a simple equation, and it operates at a
deeper level of artistic apprehension. However, there is an equation
established in the poem with mind as tranquillity and body as notion.
This inter-animation of motion and tranquility, body and mind, runs
through the entirety of the text. The two opening verses of the poem, as
I pointed out earlier, frame the poetic discourse of the poem in an
interesting way. First, let us consider some of the ways in which the
idea of the body has entered into the discourse of the poem.
He who seeks pleasure in physical objects, who has no control over
his senses, is immoderate in food, idle and weak, him Mara will
overpower, as the wind overpowers the weal tree.
He who seeks no pleasure in physical objects, who has complete
control over his senses, is moderate in food, full of faith and is
energetic, him Mara will not overpower any more than the wind can power
the rocky mountain.
In the following verses, too, the body is contrasted with the mind,
and the ideas of motion and tranquility are displaced on to the body and
mind respectively.
Fortress
Knowing that the body is fragile like a clay plot, and fortifying the
mind like a fortress, one should fight Mara with the sword of wisdom,
guard what has been gained, without any attachment.
Alas! Before long this body will lie on the earth, unattended, bereft
of consciousness, like a useless dog.
Knowing this body to be like foam, and realising its mirage-like
nature breaking the flower-arrows of Mara, one may go beyond the domain
of the King of Death.
In all these verses, we observe the way that the body is contrasted
with the mind, and the fragility and evanescence of the former as
opposed to the solidity and worth of the latter; this contrast is
securely established. We see, how in many of the verses, how a need for
restraint, mindfulness, self-control is underlined through the
descriptions of the body. Consequently, the body becomes a metaphor for
everything that needs controlling and restraining. In some other
stanzas, the body becomes a symbol of time and its inexorable power.
Look at this beautiful image, covered with wounds, huddled together,
full of illness, higly fancied, without any permanence or stability.
Disease
This body is frail and a nest of disease. It is perishable. It ends
in death.
The bleaching bones are like gourds discarded in autumn. What delight
is there looking at them?
Here is a city made up of bones, plastered with flesh and blood,
where decay and death pride and deceit dwell.
In these stanzas the correlation between the body and time is vividly
present; the body is subjected to the ravages of time, and to see it in
any other way is to fall victim to an illusion. The Dhammapada
repeatedly points out that the body needs to be controlled as a way of
achieving spiritual liberation. so it becomes a challenge, an object for
contemplation and conquest.
Those sages who refrain from violence, who are capable of controlling
their bodies, go to the unchanging abode, where having reached it, they
do not suffer any more.
Those who are constantly mindful of the body, who refrain from what
is proscribed, who labour to do the deeds that are prescribed, who are
attentive and restrained – in such people evil potentialities will come
to an end.
The disciples of the Buddha are always well-awake, well-enlightened.
Their thoughts, day and night, center on the body.
As we examine the verses in the Dhammapada, what we note is not an
insistence on a rigid bifurcation of the human personality into the mind
and body, but rather a higher synthesis born of the possibilities as
well as the limitations of the body. By disposing the body, by
perceiving its limitations and possibilities, by making use of it as a
challenge to the realisation of higher spiritual values, the Dhammapada
enjoins thoughtful people to achieve a higher synthesis.
In the Dhammapada, the word commonly used to designate the body is
kaya. Occasionally, the words sarira and rupa are also employed. The
body is constantly pitted against citta (mind); occasionally, the words
manas, panna, dhamma are used or this purpose. There is an interesting
interplay between the kaya and citta, and this is central to the
structure of the poem.
And this interplay can be very subtly mapped on to the interplay
between motion and tranquillity (the two dominant images in the poem)
that I have been discussing in this column. Any perceptive literary
critic who is interested in uncovering the complex literary organisation
of this poem will surely be interested in focusing on this interplay and
mapping.
So what we find in the Dhammapada is the deft use of mind and body to
define the potentialities of each other and promote a synthesis that can
best be understood as an understanding that leads towards human
achievement. This intersection of mind and body finds an echo in the
interface of motion and tranquility.
An exploration of the root images in the Dhammapada, ultimately,
opens interesting doors not only to understanding the structure and
organisation, and therefore the literary worth of this poem, but also to
the doctrinal centre of the poem as well.
As I have been arguing throughout this column, these two facets of
the text are interconnected; they are mutually reinforcing. Hence it can
be asserted that the structure and organisation of the poem are
reflective of the theme and message of the poem.
Message
There is indeed another sense in which this poem enacts its own
message. The Dhammapada states both directly and obliquely that the body
is subject to change, the mind is subject to change as indeed are
thoughts and feelings. This conviction ties into the root image of
motion.
What the author(s) has sought to do is to give a kind of permanence
to this through the weave of the text. But, as readers of texts, we can
read that itself as an illusion, because language changes too along with
forms of reception and interpretation privileged by various generations
of readers. Hence, this text can, and will be read in different ways by
different readers, and this is sanctioned by the very vision of the
poem. And interestingly, here there is a perfect fit with modern
literary theory.
(To be continued)
