I looked around, noticing that my mind was purified. “I will be like a pinprick, popping the bubbles of ignorance and delusion, revealing their utter emptiness,” I thought to myself. “Where there is ignorance, I will inform. Where there is darkness, I will enlighten. And where there is conflict, I will bring love.”
Part 2: Middle
9
After I had walked some distance towards the nearest town, I met an ascetic named Upana the Ajivaka on the road. I smiled broadly at him; my joy must have been palpable. Upana looked at me and cocked his head slightly. “You look well, my friend,” he said. “Tell me, who is your teacher?” I was in such excellent spirits that I decided to respond to him in a kind of poem:
I am the one who’s transcended all pain.
I am the knower, I’ll say it again.
I have renounced all the world can give
I am the one who now knows how to LIVE!
When Upana stared at me blankly, I continued.
I am a one-of-a-kind, that is true
No one can match me; oh please tell me who?
Even the gods know that I am their better
I am released now and I have no fetter!
When Upana still stared at me in silence, I raised my voice a little and continued with my poem.
I am the king of the whole universe
I am the teacher and I am the nurse
I am Perfection, Enlightenment, Truth
I am exalted, I tell you forsooth!
Upana finally nodded slightly and said, “You are very confident, sir.”
“Wrong!” I instantly cried. “I am not ‘confident’ in the least! What I am is victorious!”
“Well, good luck,” Upana the Ajivaka said and walked away. As I watched him depart I shook my head sadly, knowing that he would be karmically punished for his rank disrespect towards me. (And also for walking around nude because I forgot to mention that “Ajivaka” means “nude.”) (AP 1:167–73)
As I continued walking, a question entered my mind: “Who should I teach first?” Instantly I knew the answer. “Of course,” I thought, “I will go see my old teacher, Alara Kalama! Alara Kalama is a wise and thoughtful man, he sees things clearly, he is the perfect person!” Feeling excited, I started off towards where Alara Kalama lived, but I hadn’t traveled very far when a god (I didn’t know his name; he was youngish, with a hangdog face and lank hair) appeared before me. “Excuse me, sir,” the god drawled, “but your old friend, Alara Kalama?”
“Yes?” I quickly replied.
“He’s dead.”
“WHAT? Alara Kalama is dead? When?”
“Seven days ago.”
“But this is terrible, Alara Kalama was to have been my first student!”
“Yes, well, as I said, he’s dead.” The god stared at me with a dull look on his long face for a moment, then turned and strolled away. I stood there after he left, trying to decide who to teach now. Then it hit me: “My other old teacher, Ramaputta!” I cried aloud. “Like Alara Kalama, Ramaputta is a wise and thoughtful man. He sees things clearly. He will certainly understand my teachings. Ramaputta is the perfect person!” Filled with renewed excitement, I started towards where Ramaputta lived, but after a few steps that same lank-haired young god appeared before me again.
“Excuse me, sir.”
“What is it now?”
“Your other old teacher, Ramaputta?”
“Yes, yes?”
“He’s dead too.”
“What?? When?”
“Um … last night, I think?”
“Ramaputta died last night ?? Of what?”
“I don’t know that, sir, I just know that he’s dead.”
“But this is terrible. I was on my way to teach him!”
“Yes, well, as I said, he’s dead. Anyway, goodbye, sir.” (MV 1:6; AP 1:163–72)
The young god slouched away and I stood there, once again uncertain. “Now who should I teach?” I asked myself. “Alara Kalama and Ramaputta are both dead. Who else is there?” I stroked my chin for a long moment, then suddenly knew the answer. “Of course!” I thought. “Kondanna and the other ascetics! I have spent a great deal of time with them over the past few years. They are the perfect ones to start with!”
The last time I’d seen Kondanna and the other ascetics had been several months earlier, not long after I’d eaten the rice porridge Sujata had given me. They had openly scorned me at that time. Now, as I strode back towards them, they instantly started mocking me. “Look who’s here, friends, it’s none other than Prince Siddhartha.”
“Looking for some milk and honey, Prince Siddhartha?”
“Looking for a cushion to sit on?”
“Looking for—?”
Suddenly they all stopped and fell silent, stunned by the radiance of my visage. Almost as if against their own wills, the ascetics all leapt to their feet and bowed deeply to me. “Friend,” several of them murmured. “Friend.” (ASV 15:108; MV 1:6) I stopped and looked at them, steely-eyed. “First of all, do not call me ‘friend’ again,” I said. “I am now a Perfectly Enlightened Being, a Buddha, and I am here to teach you.”
Kondanna shook his head, incredulous. “On what basis do you claim to have achieved such god-like status, Gotama?” he stammered.
“I have awakened, Kondanna. I have found the solution to suffering. And while I do not care for myself whether you treat me with the proper respect, for I have transcended ego, it is not, in a larger sense, permissible to refer to a Buddha as ‘friend.’” (AP 1:167–73; DP 153–54)
“What should we call you then?”
“You may call me ‘Tathagata.’”
“ … Perfect One?”
“Correct. You may also call me ‘Exalted One,’ ‘Insightful One’ or ‘Gifted One.’ ‘The Essence of Perfection’ is acceptable too, as is ‘Leader of the Caravan,’ ‘Taster of Truth’ and ‘Lord of the World.’” (ASV 16:70–74)
The ascetics stared at me, dumbfounded. “Many great and venerable thinkers have come before you, Gotama. None of them has ever claimed the kind of supreme enlightenment you are claiming,” one said. “On what basis do you do so when you are still so young?”
“Tell me, bikkhu,” I shot back, “do you doubt fire when it is young?” They all stared at me, startled by
