經律異相 40.27

40.27

In the past, there was a brāhmaṇa who went forth in his youth to study. Reaching sixty years of age, he was unable to attain the Way. According to custom, he returned home, took a wife, and lived as a householder. He had a son who was handsome and lovely. When the child reached the age of seven, he suddenly contracted a severe illness and died in a single night. The brahmacārin grieved for him; he threw himself upon the corpse, fainting and reviving. His relatives remonstrated with him, forcibly took the body for encoffining, and buried it outside the city. The brahmacārin thought to himself, ‘My weeping now is of no benefit. It would be better to go to King Yama and beg for my son’s life.’ After bathing and purifying himself, taking along flowers and incense, he left his house and departed. Wherever he went, he asked people, ‘Where is the domain ruled by King Yama?’ After traveling several thousand li into deep mountains, he saw several brahmacārins and asked them as before. They replied, ‘Why do you ask for the place ruled by King Yama, and what do you seek?’ He replied, ‘I had a son who suddenly died recently. I wish to go to King Yama to beg for my son’s life.’ The brahmacārins pitied his foolishness and said to him, ‘The realm ruled by King Yama is not a place that living people can reach. We shall show you the direction: you should go west from here for more than four hundred li. There is a great valley with a city within it. This is the city where the heavenly spirits stop and rest when they inspect the world. King Yama always passes through this city when he makes his rounds on the fourth day of the month. If you maintain purity and go, you will surely see him.’ He departed joyfully. Arriving in that valley, he saw a splendid city, palaces, and houses, like the Trāyastriṃśa heaven. The brahmacārin went to the gate, burned incense, stood on tiptoe, made vows, and pleaded for his son. King Yama instructed the gatekeeper to let him enter. The brahmacārin declared, ‘Late in life I had a son to support my old age. I raised him for seven years, and recently his life came to an end. I only beg the Great King to bestow his grace and charity to return my son’s life to me.’ The king said, ‘Very well. Your son is now playing in the eastern garden. Go and take him yourself.’ He immediately went and saw his son playing together with other small children. He stepped forward, embraced him, and wept, saying, ‘Day and night I thought of you, finding food and sleep tasteless. Do you think of your parents’ suffering or not?’ The child shouted back and rebuked him, saying, ‘Foolish old man, you do not understand the principles of things! Residing briefly together, you call someone else’s person your son! Do not speak wildly. You had better leave early. Now I have my own parents here.’ Dejected, the brahmacārin wept and left. He thought to himself, ‘I have heard that the śramaṇa Gautama knows the path of the soul’s transformations. I should go and question him.’ He immediately returned to the Buddha’s place, bowed his head in homage, and reported the whole matter from beginning to end to the Buddha: ‘He was truly my son, yet he would not return. He called me a foolish old man, saying that residing briefly together, I called another’s person my son, and that there was forever no father-son affection. Why has it come to this?’ The Buddha told the brahmacārin, ‘You are indeed foolish. When a person dies and their spirit departs, they immediately take on another form. Parents, wives, and children come together due to conditions, just like lodging travelers who scatter once they rise.’ Hearing this, the brahmacārin’s mind was illuminated with understanding. He bowed his head and offered himself, wishing to become a śramaṇa. The Buddha said, ‘Welcome!’ His hair and beard fell off of their own accord, and the Dharma robes appeared on his body; he immediately became a monk. Right upon his seat he attained the path of an arhat. (Extracted from the “Daoheng Chapter,” the fourth fascicle of the Dharmapada Sūtra.)