CHAPTER IV
The light is fading. Siddharta takes a dip in the Anjana, and sits under the Banyan on Saosti’s little seat. The sweet and earthy smell of the water-washed bulrushes has brought comfort and peace to Siddharta. He seems to see today, in the light of the full-moon, the entire world, upto its last point, – clearly distinctly.
Sitting there on his seat of kushas, Siddharta took a vow: ‘Whether this body lasts or perishes in the effort, this vow I take, that I shall discover the end-point to the path of Sadness. Without attaining to this siddhi, without attaining to this buddhi, without the perfection of Buddha, I shall not leave this seat.’ Sitting still in Bajrasana, his mind deep-concentrated he said –
‘Ihasane Shushyatu me Sharirang
Twagasthimangsang Pralayancha Yatu
Aprapya Bodhing Bahukalpadurlabhang
Naivasanath Kayamatashchalishyate.’
Then Mar – at whose name the worlds tremble, the Origin of all Evil Thought, the Speaker of all Evil Words, the Doer of all Evil Deeds, the great throne of that Mar shook at its foundations. His face darkened with rage, Mar is coming in person, today, amid cries of “Kill! Kill! Mar! Mar!”, towards Siddharta.
The regiments of Mar have awoken all over the world today. They are rushing – all sin, all sorrow, all blackness, all corruption, all jealousy, all pain, all darkness and dust – over the land, over the water, through the skies, from the ten directions, spreading, spreading, speeding, speeding!
Over the flooding smile of the full-moon, a black curtain has been drawn – by Mar! Through that blackness, the moon looks on, like a giant blood-eye! Instead of light, a great blood-rain is dripping from this eye onto the earth! As the splashing and splattering drops of blood rebound and touch the stars, they wither, fall dead and lightless!
Grasping the sky in a single fist, pressing the underworld with his feet, Mar has arrived in his own terrible form, in front of Siddharta. A great cape billows from his body, red as though dyed in human blood! The great sword of lightnings hangs at his waist; an enormous blood-stone tops his skull-crown. Rings of enchantment hang from his earlobes. On his breast there burns a great fire-locket – a conflagration, its malicious flames licking the air, reflecting the Evil glint in his eyes – tied around his neck with strings of fire!
Standing to the full of his height Mar, the Evil Majesty, heaves his enormous chest, and says to Siddharta – “Useless is your tapasya! Uttishta – arise! Kameshwarohasmi – I am Mar! There is no being in the three worlds who can stand victorious against me!
Uttishta, uttishta, Majhyavishayasthang vachang kurushwa – arise and depart; do not try to provoke me. Stay as my obedient servant, and I shall give to you all the riches of Indra. Go, enjoy great happiness as Emperor of the Earth. What use destroying your body with tapasya ? No being can dare be victorious against me ! No being can dare to become Buddha!
Siddharta replied – “O, Mar! For lives uncounted, have I been doing my tapasya. This time, I shall be Buddha, or not leave this seat. Whether this body lasts or perishes, this is my firm resolve”:
‘Ihasna Shushyatu me Sharirang
Twagasthimangsang Pralayancha Yatu
Aprapya Bodhing Bhaukalpadurlabhang
Naivasanath Kayamatashchalishyate.’
Three times, Mar repeated – “Uttishta – arise, depart, leave thy tapasya!’ Three times, Siddharta replied – “No! No! Naivasanath Kayamataschalishyate!”
His eyes bloody with rage, Mar let out a devilish roar which shook the three worlds, and pulled at the sky with his hand. Scratched with his sharp nails, the beautiful sky, ornamented with moon and stars, was ripped like some deep-blue saree, into a hundred shreds. Now there was no moon overhead, no stars. There only remained a great Blackness, a great Empty space – like the wide opened jaws of some infinite Mouth, rushing upon the earth in all-swallowing motion!
A great black tongue reaches down to the earth, from which a foul black saliva, like strings of clotted blood drip down onto the land! Mar looks up at the Black Mouth – two giant enamel-white pairs of teeth flash lightning, snapping at the earth with a sound of thunder – crashing, crushing, grinding! And from between those all-swallowing jaws, with a blood-curdling roar, there pour the hordes of Mar! The sun, the moon, rotate in their hands like little coits of flame. Blackening the ten directions they come – circling, circling, the hordes of Mar! Their chariot is the whirlwind. Their banner, the all-encompassing dust-storm! From the emptiness, they hurl fire-comets to the earth, like great brooms of Destruction – annihilating and sweeping away! Great trees, huge mountains, are wrenched from their roots and whirled and flung around by the regiments of Mar – all over the world, like giant hailstorms! A million lunatic horses, carrying the soldiers of Mar, have surrounded Siddharta and neigh and stomp and break the ground, and rush all around him. Lightning speeds forth from the ground, as they clang their hooves. Boiling blood-foam spills off their mouths as they rear and neigh and snort and pant in madness – all around the Bodhi Banyan! Every tree, every leaf, each flower, each blade of grass of the Urayil forests have been burnt to cinders! Through boiling blood, the Anjana rolls and churns and leaps and growls, all covered in flame! On the edge of the lightning sharpening their swords, from the flame of the lightning lighting their torches, horde upon horde, like perennially multiplying seeds of blood, are flying through the darkness in great numbers, falling on Buddhodeb. The sky melts and dissolves in their flame-breath, the wind burns as on fire, the earth glows like a smouldering piece of coal! They circle round and round, on the whirlwind, the flames crackling and sparking and spilling out from all around them: And at their centre, twirling a great burning palm-tree, red flames licking the skies – stands Mar, screaming in hideous rage – “Han! Han!”.
The underworld has been torn asunder by the nails on Mar’s feet – and from the underworld has arisen – Maharamari! Today at the call of Mar, wrapping the deep collyrium of Hell about her she has arisen, and is rushing – this Mari! Her dust-laden flaming hair flies in the wind – like a sky-spanning comet! The cries of pain and sorrow have arisen from all sides – the three worlds are trembling! Where the wind, having touched Mahamari’s body goes on to meet the land – mountains crumble to dust, rocks are crushed, forests are burned, the rivers, the seas, the oceans, all dry up ! Nothing can be seen in any direction. All has been devastated.
All has become one great Desert. All has died, has laid down, has been burnt, been turned to dust and ashes. Splitting the skies, over all earth can be heard the terror-cry of Mari, the enraged roar of Mar: and everywhere hangs the weird stink of the smashan – burnt human flesh!
A fourth of the night has passed. The hordes of Mar, the hordes of Mari, like fire-faced wolves, like blood-eyed bats, throwing flames from their mouth, are flying and running in all directions, are crying and weeping, “Ha-ha, hu-hu”.
The sky is rotating overhead, the earth is rotating underneath with a great unearthly sound – ghar-ghar, ghar-ghar – like two giant grinding-wheels trying to crush Buddhodeb between them! With a lightning bolt in each hand, Mar threatens Buddhodeb -“Run away! Run away! You still have a chance. Leave your tapasya!” But Buddhodeb pays no heed whatsoever to Mar. He neither looks at Mar, nor lends the slightest ear to his suggestions. ‘Karuna’, the daughter of Mar, with her two little sisters, ‘Chala’, and ‘Kala’, is trying her best to distract the attention of Buddhodeb. Taking sometimes, the form of Mother Gotami, sometimes that of Jashodara, they are falling at his feet with folded hands, weeping, writhing. To melt his heart, to break his mind, they come dressed as heaven’s angels, singing and dancing. But Buddhodeb is not to be moved. Today, he is seated immovable in Bajrasana. Nothing can disturb his fixed meditation!
Then that Mar – that great and terrible Mar whose power causes heaven and earth and hell to tremble, under whose feet are Indra, Chandra, Vayu and Varuna, whose commands are obeyed implicitly by the sea, the earth, the sky – the throne of that Mar has been crushed today, by the power of Buddha! Today Mar stands defeated, unable to shake a hair on the head of Siddharta, unable to shake a leaf of the immortal Banyan! Now, he dares not stand for even a moment, in front of the Buddha: He dares not look the Buddha in the face! Putting off the torches in both his hands, in the midst of the fray, Mar has slunk away like a shameful coward – back below the underworld, into the deepest darkness of the unconscious – leaving blackness all around him! In the midst of that collyrium-black sits Buddhodeb, fearless, immovable, meditating hour after hour through the night.
The night is ending. But the earth still convulses- great intermittent sobs every now and then, in fear of Mar – the moon is afraid of rising, the day is afraid of coming. At such an hour, breaking his meditation after vanquishing Mar, after killing all Fear from the face of the earth, Buddhodeb stood up. Today, he has become a siddha, a Buddha. He has found the end to all suffering. With his right hand, he offers Protection to the earth; with his left hand, he assures Fearlessness to the Gods. Around his golden body the Seven Lights are concentrated, and radiate out all over the world. In that light, the earth has awoken, with the Victory-song of Ananda on her lips. She wears, today, a new dress, a new life. From under the feet of the Buddha, the Nairanjan rolls on gently, sprinkling the waters of Peace in all directions.
