Did I run away? No, I calmly stood my ground. “When a Perfect One reaches nirvana, it is never through violence, Ananda,” I coolly announced. I heard people screaming: “That handsome man is going to be stomped by that killer elephant!” I appreciated the compliment about my looks, but the lack of faith in me was slightly irksome. As the crazed behemoth rumbled closer, Ananda trembled with fear. “Master?” he whispered. Nalagiri was nearly on us now. I briefly considered popping him in the ear, because that does sometimes work (DP 23), but instead I decided to raise my hands up and hold them palm out, sending powerful beams of loving-kindness directly at Nalagiri. Instantly affected by my compassion, the massive elephant slowed, and then stopped directly in front of me. He bowed his mighty head to me. “Blessed One,” I saw in his great eyes. (CV 7:3)
“You were working for Devadatta, weren’t you, tusker?” I asked Nalagiri silently.
“Yes, Tathagata. Devadatta is consumed with jealousy for you, as I’m sure you already know.”
“Oh yes.”
“I am ashamed of myself, master.”
“Do not be ashamed, dear tusker. I forgive you.”
At this, Nalagiri dropped to his knees before me and gazed up at me with profound gratitude. “I love you, Blessed One,” I saw in his eyes.
“I love you too, tusker,” I told him silently, gently patting his enormous head. “But in that spirit I must tell you that it is now time for you to give up lust, anger and delusion.”
“I will, Perfect One, I promise. Please, may I join your sangha?”
“I am sorry, beloved tusker, but as you are an elephant, no, you may not.”
At that point, having failed for the third time to kill me, Devadatta tried to take over the sangha. You would think he’d have tried to take over the sangha first and then tried to kill me, that definitely would have been more logical, but as I said, Devadatta’s plans never made a whole lot of sense. I remember vividly the day Devadatta openly attacked my leadership. “The Perfect One has been leading us for many years now,” he loudly announced. “Perhaps it is time for him to rest and enjoy his remaining days, allowing someone else to lead the sangha. With that in mind, I humbly offer myself.”
There was something about the unctuous way Devadatta said these words that made me suddenly explode with emotion. “Do you actually think I would allow a clot of spittle like you to lead my sangha, Devadatta??” I bellowed. “Never! NEVER!”
That night at bedtime, Ananda trimmed my toenails. “I am slightly saddened about what I suspect Devadatta’s fate is going to be, Ananda.” (ITI 89)
“Is it going to be terrible, master?”
“It’s going to be very terrible indeed, my friend. Devadatta will go to Hell, where he will be forced to embrace a flaming metal pillar which will burn all of his flesh off, thus turning him into a skeleton.”
“Oh no!”
“His skeleton will then be brought back to life.”
“Dreadful!”
“And forced to hug another fiery pillar, which will turn him into a skeleton once again. His skeleton will then be tossed into a fire and pulled out and thrown in again, over and over and over.” (NRK)
“It sounds excruciating, master.”
“Oh yes, Ananda, extremely excruciating. The point is, one may not criticize a Buddha, Ananda.” (SDI)
“No no.”
“Anyone who does—well, how to put it? ‘For eons he will be born to a whore who will abandon him to wild dogs.’” (NRK)
“Will the wild dogs eat Devadatta, master?”
“What else would they do with him, Ananda?”
“ … Raise him?”
“Of course they will eat him, you nincompoop!”
“I’m so sorry, master.”
That night I dreamed of a previous lifetime. I was the captain of a great sailing ship who at one point on a long sea voyage knew with psychic certainty that one of my passengers was planning to kill all of the other passengers. (CCJAT) Why this passenger wanted to kill five hundred people, I did not know. Why all the other passengers would simply allow themselves to be killed by this one man, I did not know either. All I knew was that as captain of the ship, I had only one choice: Kill the murderer before he could kill anyone else. I remember the moment I snuck up behind the man and stuck my knife in his back. He jerked around, looked at me and whispered, “But Captain, what did I even do?” “Nothing yet,” I whispered to him, “but you soon would have. I have saved you from Hell, my friend, and you are welcome.”
“But master,” Ananda asked me the next morning when I told him of my dream, “is not our commitment to do no harm?”
“It is, Ananda, but it turns out that sometimes the best way to do no harm is to kill someone.”
“Did the man on the ship die quickly, master?”
“No, Ananda, I’m afraid it took several minutes for him to bleed out. ‘My family,’ I remember him gurgling up at me. ‘Do not even think about them, friend,’ I responded. ‘They were nothing but shackles on you anyway. Think instead of how I have freed you from Hell and again, you are welcome.’”
A few moments later: “How would you kill Devadatta, master?”
“I’m not entirely sure, Ananda, but I am seriously considering getting Nalagiri the killer elephant to stomp him to death. I am also considering pushing him off a cliff.”
It turned out that there was no need for me to kill Devadatta, however. Once Sariputta, Moggallana and I lured Devadatta’s five hundred followers away from him (which turned out to be easy because they were all nitwits), that was effectively the
