Still Rahula was silent. I turned away and shook my head. “This is why I left when he was a baby,” I remember thinking to myself. “To avoid moments exactly like this.”
A few years later, Rahula was sitting under a tree and meditating. “Try to be like the earth, Rahula,” I instructed him. “When people drop disagreeable things on the earth, shit for instance, the earth is not upset; the earth doesn’t even care. Or better yet, try to be like space, Rahula. Nothing bothers space and do you know why? Because ‘space’ is nothing. Be like that, be nothing.”
Rahula opened his eyes and stared directly at me. I instantly felt myself stiffen. “You must get rid of your ill will,” I informed him. “You are filled with cruelty and resentment. I can see it in your eyes.” (MJ 62)
Still he stared at me. I turned and walked away.
That night after dinner I sat Rahula down. “As you presumably know, Rahula, I have perfect remembrance of all my previous lifetimes.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I would like to tell you about the lifetime that occurred just prior to this one and was, consequently, extremely important. I was Prince Vessantara, Rahula, a great being, not necessarily ‘perfect’ yet but definitely ‘great.’ (VSJAT) One of the things that made me so great was my extraordinary generosity. To give you an idea, when I was born (which I had to do through my mother’s birth canal, which was utterly disgusting, but never mind that right now), I emerged talking. ‘Is there anything I can give away, Mother?’ I instantly asked. ‘I wish to give to charity!’ When my mother agreed, I roared like a little lion, Rahula, that’s how happy I was to be so generous.” (NK)
Rahula nodded, looking vaguely unsure.
“My wife in this previous lifetime was named Maddi, Rahula, and one night she had a terrible nightmare. She came rushing into my chambers in the middle of the night, begging me to comfort her. ‘Why are you here?’ I demanded of her. ‘I have had a nightmare, Prince Vessantara.’ But when Maddi described her nightmare to me, Rahula, I was not in the least disturbed by it. Rather I was elated by what I heard. Because I instantly understood that Maddi’s dream was prophetic and what it prophesied was that I was just about to fulfill the Perfection of Giving! Do you know how I was going to do that, Rahula?”
“No, Father.”
“I was going to give my children away!”
“ … What?”
“‘You ate some bad meat, woman,’ I told Maddi. ‘Go back to your bed, there’s nothing to your nightmare.’ I knew this wasn’t true, of course. I knew Maddi’s nightmare was prophetic but I told her otherwise out of compassion for her. The following day Maddi left our two children in my care. ‘Protect them, my Lord,’ she implored me as she went off in search of food. (Why a princess had to go off in search of food I’m still not entirely sure of, but no matter, moving on.) Not long after Maddi left, a man came to the house, Rahula. He was fat, filthy and deformed, with rotten teeth. He was horrible-looking really, he barely even looked human. But when this monstrous creature asked for my children, do you know what I felt at that moment, Rahula?”
“Pain?”
“Oh no no, on the contrary, I was filled with happiness, Rahula!”
“Please do not say that, Father.”
“‘Why of course you may have my children,’ I quickly cried to the vile man. ‘Their mother is gone and they are all yours!’ ‘You should know that I intend to use them as slaves,’ the hideous man told me.”
“Father, no …”
“‘Splendid, you are their master!’ I instantly replied. The children did not want to go with the horrid man obviously, Rahula, so I leaned down and got very close to my son’s face and whispered to him, ‘Fulfill Daddy’s perfection now, son. Consecrate daddy’s heart. Do you not know that giving brings Daddy happiness, son? Do you not want Daddy to be happy?’”
“But he was your son …”
“‘Omniscience,’ I suddenly proclaimed in a loud voice, ‘is a hundred—no, a thousand—no, a hundred thousand times more precious to me than the lives of my own children!’”
“Father, please …”
“Do you know what my son said to me as he was led away, Rahula? He looked back at me and said, ‘May you be happy, Daddy.’ Isn’t that adorable? ‘May you be be happy,’ so darling. Now I will admit that as I watched that loathsome man drive my children away, I was torn, Rahula.”
“You were?”
“Oh yes. For a moment I even considered running after them, killing the man and bringing my children back.”
“You did?”
“On second thought, however, I decided not to. To take back a gift simply because of the suffering of young children—well, that is simply not what a good man would do, Rahula. It was painful to see my children beaten by this appalling creature, do not misunderstand me. But once a gift has been given you don’t take it back, that is the larger point. As the man led my children away, beating them, my girl turned back and cried out, ‘How can you just watch this happen, Daddy?’ Which was, honestly, amusing in a way, because she did not realize that by watching my children taken away I had just overcome a great flaw: The flaw of affection, Rahula.”
Rahula began to weep. After a moment, I patted his head lightly. “You may continue in the sangha, Rahula. Not as my ‘son’ obviously, for I feel no attachment to you in that way, none whatsoever, but as a monk.”
“Thank you, Father,” Rahula murmured, then off my look, corrected himself: “Thank you, Buddha.” I offered my hand and he kissed it.
At the age of twenty, Rahula finally became a full-fledged member of the sangha. I remember the day well. Rahula sat in front of the whole community as I slowly walked around him, peppering him
