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     The Virtue of Forbearance


Once there was a corrupted king Kalabu who ruled the Varanasi, while that time the Bodhisatta was born in the family of a rich merchant. His name was then  known as Kundaka Kumar.

On the death of his own parents he then realized the uselessness of gathering the wealth, because there is no use of the wealth after the death. So he refused all his riches and went to the Himalayas to live a life of an ascetic.

After some time passed, he again returned to Varanasi in a search to collect some amount of salt and vinegar for his some or the other purpose. There he became the guest of the senior officer and was given an residence in the royal park.

One day, when the King Kalabu was under the pressure of strong drinks, he visited the royal park which was probably surrounded by the female dancers. He rest his head on the lap of one of his favorite women and started enjoying the dance and music. Soon he dozed off. When the women found him sleeping they left him and started playing in the park. Seeing that the ascetic was meditating in the park they requested him to give some oration. While time the king woke up and asked about his women. Not finding them around, he looked for them in the park and found them surrounding the holy person.

Being angry at the view of his women being attracted to another man, he drag out his sword to kill him. However, when pleased by the women he stopped. Then also, in his anger he asked the ascetic: “What rules you discourse, O monk!” “The rule of self-control, sir”, the holy person replied. “What is this self-control?”, asked the angry king. “Not to be angry when men insults you and beat you”, answered the ascetic. “I will test your forbearance then”, saying the king ordered his men to give the ascetic two thousand hoops with the lash of thorns.

When this was done, the king disrespectfully asked, “what rules do you preach, O Monk”! "The rules of self-control, Your Highness”, the tranquil the Bodhisatta replied. “Cut off the head of this fake ascetic”, the king ordered. This was also done. He then ordered, “chop off his feet, too”. His feet were also chopped off. “What do you discourse, now”, again the king asked, expecting him to change his view. “I Practice the rules of self-control, sir!” said the ascetic. This further enraged the king; who got his nose and ears also cut off. Then the Bodhisatta said, “my self-control is not situated on my nose or ears, but is deeply inside my heart”. By then the king’s tolerance had run out and he kicked him on his heart and left the place.

By that time the Bodhisatta was immersed in the blood. Then after, he said: "long live the king whose nasty hands have thus injured me. However, a pure person shall never be angry to practice the virtue of self-control”.

When the king was returning, the earth divided into two and consume him then and there.

Some say that the Bodhisatta died on the same day. While some, however, believe that all his wounds soon healed up and he went back to the Himalayas to live his ascetic life again. 

 

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