fter the wedding ceremonies at the Palace, with all the grandeur of the court around her, Vasabha was surprised to hear that they would go to the Jetavana for a smaller, follow-up ceremony as well. The actual wedding was conducted by brahmin priests since the monks and nuns were prohibited from performing marriages by their Rule¹. This other ceremony was a blessing by the Sangha to wish them well as a couple and to invoke as many benevolent forces as possible – from all around the cakkavala, the universal system – and to encourage the kindly, noble, unselfish aspects of the heart within to be strengthened and to bless their union as well². It was going to be another test of her adaptability and resourcefulness as this was a further item that had not made it on to the list of ‘essentials’.

‘I’m so glad you’re going to meet the Buddha, Miss,’ Kesini was quite excited. ‘I had the chance to go to his monastery in Kosambi a few times, with Gavinna who I looked after. She was a concubine of King Udena’s grandfather and had been put out to pasture long ago. She was very old and completely blind but she saw everything – if you know what I mean. She could tell exactly what was going on in people’s minds just by the sound and feel of their walk or the tone of their voice. She had visions too that she would tell me about sometimes.

‘Anyway, when we had the opportunity, and when the Master was in the King’s good books, we’d go to listen to his talks. It was wonderful.’

‘How would the Buddha not be in the King’s favour?’ Vasabha took care to use her posh voice at all times, even when it was apparently just her and Kesini in her chambers. You never knew when someone might be eavesdropping or just coming up to a doorway, many of which were only equipped with a curtain rather than a wooden door.

‘Uhh! King Udena blew hot and cold all the time. You never could keep track of his moods. One Moon we’re all to go with him, in full pomp and with armloads of offerings, to pay respects to the Master and listen to his teaching, then two Moons later he’s lost faith again and he’s banned any of the court from going near the Ghositarama. It was frustrating but, we had a secret weapon,’ Kesini gave her a cheeky side-glance.

‘What was that?’

‘There was a slave woman who was a maid for Queen Samavati. She had an incredible memory so – being a slave – she “did not count” as part of the court that was forbidden to go. She’d attend the Master’s teachings then come back to the seraglio and repeat it all³. Most of the womenfolk in the palace would gather for these talks by Khujjuttara, the slave. That’s one very rare instance of a slave having an advantage over a queen, eh?!’

Kesini had come from quite a high-ranking family in Kosambi but, like Lady Jalini, was not at all bothered by issues of rank and birth; this had been another quality to her credit when Prince Mahanama had been pondering who to send with Vasabha.

‘So, what do I need to know about this blessing ceremony?’ Vasabha asked.

‘Not much, thankfully,’ Kesini replied, fishing through Vasabha’s supply of saris, sarongs and wraps. ‘The dress code for a monastery, and for a do like this, is smart, modest, top all covered up, a little bit of jewellery... well, actually, since you and the King are being blessed, the jewellery should be a little more than what the other court ladies and Queen Mallika are wearing but not by much. We should go for “small but expensive” for this.’

Vasabha was deeply grateful for these cues. ‘Kesini, you are a great friend! I’d never be able to...’ she caught herself about to talk about pretending, ‘... adapt to the customs of Kosala without you.’

---

The royal party made their way out of the city in the mid-morning⁴. Carts and wagons bearing the food offerings to the Buddha and the Sangha had gone out earlier in the day for, although this event was going to be a lot smaller than the splendid affair of the wedding – with a thousand nobles gathered from Kosala, Maghada, Kasi, Malla, Videha and Vajji, as well as rows of pavilioned tents for several thousand citizens – there would still be many mouths to feed on this day.

A modest marquee, draped with royal colours and decked with flowers, had been set up at one side for the royal couple and the close family to dine in. Before they sat down though, with Kesini prompting from one side and Princess Vajiri from the other, they led Vasabha into the sala with King Pasenadi and Queen Mallika; they all then offered rice into the alms-bowls of the Buddha and the line of monks, seated at the front of the low platform alongside the Master.

On her first sight of the Buddha, Vasabha felt a flush of powerful emotions. She had never had the chance to see him before since, for many years, the Master had not taken the opportunity to visit his ancestral home, Kapilavatthu.

Her thoughts were stilled and she felt a warm glow in her heart welling up and then filling her eyes and head as well. The air seemed filled with a golden lustre and a loud ringing, a roaring sea of silvery sound, brimmed in her hearing⁵. Yet, mingled with these joyous rapturous feelings, there was a jarring discord of intimidation and resentment:– He’s going to see right through me and know I’m a fake. I’m a slave girl, what am I doing here?! How could they treat me like this? Make me into some kind of performing animal who has to do her tricks well or risk being tortured to death?! I might be a slave but I’m human too.

The thoughts came flooding through after the brief glowing silence ended. Still, the expression on the Master’s gentle face remained warm and open as he looked towards her. There was no scowl in that moment of contact when their eyes met, besides, the burst of anxiety and ill-feeling were soon overwhelmed with the joy-filled brightness once again.

After the meal-offering was over, and all the bhikkhus and novices had washed their alms-bowls⁶, they returned to the sala and King Pasenadi and now Queen Vasabha came to the front, to sit on a pair of brocaded cushions before and below the Buddha. Three or four rows of monks were seated beside and behind the Master. All Vasabha had to do was sit demurely, with eyes downcast and hands in añjali, while the verses of blessing and recollection were recited by the Sangha.

The warm flow sustained itself within her throughout the ceremony and, thankfully for her, the agitated and fretful concerns did not return. She allowed herself, in fact, to be blessed. The idea of fakeness fell away at the unexpected realization that, in some ways, everyone is pretending – playing at roles that are not much more than a puppet show:– Yet we are all human, and we can wish each other well, and I can let their kind hearts genuinely bless me. Why not? I will need all the help I can get. Apart from the pretences and games people play there is goodness, and that is something real.

Once the ceremony was over, and the Buddha had departed to the seclusion of the Gandha-kuti⁷ – the ‘fragrant chamber’ as it was known since it had an exquisite natural aroma – there was a general movement of people getting up and preparing to take leave and go home. Vasabha was with the King but Kesini seemed to be waving discreetly at one of the monks, trying to catch his attention. After a moment the tall, dark-skinned monk, who had been sitting in one of the middle rows, came over.

‘Is that you, Kesini? I haven’t seen you since the funeral of our dear Mistress Gavinna. We’re both getting older, eh?’ Krishna cheerfully greeted her, but was not able to restrain his glance at her missing hand.

Smiling equally broadly, Kesini held up her stumped forearm, ‘Yes, still gone, but I’m so used to it by now I hardly notice.’ She was glad to see an old acquaintance from Kosambi but she had to be going. ‘I’m a maid for the new queen so I’d better scoot and do my duty, otherwise I’ll get the sack and that would definitely ruin my day. So, you’re still a monk and I suppose you live here... oops. I’m starting a conversation again!’ She grinned at her own over-keenness. ‘Farewell, I think we’ll be here often.’

---

Vasabha settled into a rhythm of royal visits to Prince Jeta’s Grove. On some occasions it was a grand affair, when she accompanied King Pasenadi, sometimes it was just the court women who made the excursion together: Queen Mallika – who took any opportunity she could to visit the Master and receive his advice – Princess Vajiri, and herself. When it was just the group of women there was a lesser degree of formality and often the opportunity to meet with other members of the Sangha.

There were only monks and male novices living at the Jetavana as the nuns had their own residence at the Visakharama, up against the outer walls of Savatthi. If any of the royals wanted to talk with one of the monks, they would request the opportunity and, after the meal-offering was over, they would meet in the sala, or on some mats spread in the shade of the trees around the central area.

Kesini was keen to see Krishna and to catch up on the many years since their time in Kosambi. It had been sixteen or seventeen Rains since they had seen each other and they were now both in their mid-thirties. Queen Mallika and Princess Vajiri were taking the opportunity to ask some questions of Sariputta and, since Kesini knew he often gave very extensive analytical responses, she suggested to Queen Vasabha that she might introduce Her Serene Highness to her old acquaintance from Kosambi, who had also known her belovèd Gavinna, albeit briefly.

Vasabha greatly appreciated these informal opportunities, one reason being that it gave her the chance to mingle with a wider variety of folks than was possible at the Palace. There the protocols and expectations were somewhat rigid but here in the Jetavana, and even more so when they went to see the nuns at the Visakharama, there was a refreshing social levelling. The teachings of the Master on the irrelevance of caste and rank were made flesh – people were polite to the royals and gave them a front seat, but in essence, once inside the monastery gates, they were all just upasikas and upasakas – women and men lay disciples – no less, no more.

This meant that, even though Vasabha diligently maintained her façade, she also got to spend time around people from the poorer strata of society, sudras and candalas as well as merchants, in whose company she felt more natural ease.

When Kesini introduced her to Krishna, at first she assumed that this good-looking dark-skinned bhikkhu must be one who had come from a low-caste background as the brahmins and warrior-nobles tended to be fairer skinned and the sudras, candalas and matangas were often dark. She was as surprised as most people then when he spoke and showed that he had a highly educated accent.

Krishna was very used to this dynamic and had trimmed his standard explanation down to, ‘I’m darker than most from the merchant class.’

Kesini, despite being ‘just’ the maid and doing her best to be restrained, soon chimed into the conversation, asking about Krishna’s doings of the last many years. He did his best to give her the gist of it, summarizing his time in Kitagiri as ‘enjoyable’ but that he realized it would be good to spend some more time close to the Master after so many Rains away.

‘You know who’s here in Savatthi now? He asked Kesini, expecting her not to be aware of it.

‘Who?’

‘Khujjuttara – the maid of Queen Samavati – she’s quite old now but still as sharp as a tack.’

‘Really!’ Kesini was excited to hear this welcome news. ‘Ma’am,’ she turned to Queen Vasabha, ‘you remember me mentioning her to you. She’ll be a great friend for you I’m sure, once you get to meet her. She was always at Queen Samavati’s side, except when the fire happened,’ she held up her missing hand by way of illustration. ‘She was so cut up about that but she’s a wise woman, so she has not harboured any grudges. She got liberated from her slavery, didn’t she?’

‘That’s right,’ Krishna replied, ‘she was manumitted by King Udena after Queen Samavati died, in gratitude for her service. And he gave her a royal pension of two hundred and fifty gold kahapanas every year⁸. She moved to Savatthi to spend more time close to the Master, like me; she’s white-haired and still has her infirmities – her back has not improved – but she’s very comfortably situated. She’s got a small house outside the Jetavana gates. Perhaps you noticed it? She’s highly respected, by the monastics as well as the lay community. She’s known as one of the most learned of the disciples and is humble and straightforward with everyone.’

Vasabha did her best not to visibly light up at the news of a former slave rising so high, and validly too, in the eyes of society. She was thrilled to hear more about this extraordinary person but she channelled her enthusiasm into the remark, delivered as naturally and casually as possible, ‘Prince Mahanama, of Kapilavatthu, does the same thing from time to time. Shortly before I left Sakya he,’ and now she had to fish the new word out of her recent memory, ‘manumitted a slave, Nagamunda, and her whole family, out of gratitude for her service to the state.’ She was confident there was no shred of a hint that this was her own mother. ‘He said to her, ‘You are now a free woman. Go with your children and family on any path you choose.’ And he gave her a pension too though nothing so grand as that Khujjuttara received from King Udena.’

‘Please send word, if you can,’ said Krishna, ‘when you next plan to visit, Ma’am. I will then alert Khujjuttara and she can be introduced to you.

‘It’s important to have good Dharma friends. They can help us a lot, inestimably really, as I’ve found over time. Here in the Jetavana Ananda has been the best of friends and advisors to me. In Kitagiri, for the first little while at least, a monk called Surama was a wise guide and mentor for me. When I was growing up in Ujjeni, and at the Ghositarama in Kosambi, there was a monk, not quite of this tradition, who was the most wonderful teacher and companion. Anyway, I’ll be sure to let Khujjuttara know and I suspect she’ll be very happy to see Kesini again as well.’

---

Ninka kept getting messages she did not want to receive. Even though time passed much more slowly in the Heaven of the Thirty-Three Devas, she had been away for long enough for Prince Malabhari⁹ to be getting disgruntled. According to the customs and mores of the Tavatimsa devas, it was considered vulgar and tawdry to be ‘slumming it’ in the lower realms. Ninka had been given the permission of his Divine Highness to come and help her companions from the past, but now he was lobbying her vigorously to return to her home:– She was needed!

She did not require a cintamani talking stone to communicate as it was easily done mind-to-mind, across realms, for the devas of the Tavatimsa. Without responding she closed his message out, pushing it into an internal closet, ‘Not now. Not yet.’

By this time they had decided to act on Ant’s idea of moving to the Realm of Yakkhas. Gumbiya was put into the lead on this as it was his home territory.

‘No need t’ go talk to the King. ’E’s bound to be off fighting somewhere and ’e would be surprised we’d gone to the trouble of askin’ if we did.’

This was good news to the friends so they set about combing the landscape and approaching the denizens, following Gumbiya’s lead. This land was a stark contrast to the Gandharva Realm. Looming castles and fortified city-walls abounded. The yakkhas they saw, on the ground and in the air, were often huge, making even the sturdy Gumbiya look slight in comparison. He had expanded to full height for this part of the search but still some of the yakkhas he sought out for information towered over him.

Most of the males were battle-clad, bristling with gold-chased armour and weaponry; the yakkhinis meanwhile were more lightly dressed but universally, it seemed, had a couple of golden-bossed knives in their belts, a throwing axe or two, and were full-fleshed and sturdily built, if not muscle-bound.

Gumbiya was plainly well-known and well-respected. That he had been personally honoured by Lord Indra, ruler of the Tavatimsa Heaven, and was a friend and companion of General Punnaka, opened doors for them but every avenue they tried proved fruitless. The General called in his spymaster, a yakkha of considerable intelligence and shape-shifting abilities, and grilled him on any rumours or hints of a half-kinnari half-human babe, either in transit or in a remote refuge in the Yugandhara Mountains or similar hiding place – nothing.

The General was one who was highly trustworthy and knowledgeable, he was not hopeful of any leads appearing in the yakkha community, in addition he was the nephew of King Vessavana, Lord of Yakkhas, and had been on the raid they had carried out together against the asuras.

‘You should talk to my wife, Princess Irandati, she is the sister of Queen Samuddaja, wife of King Virupakkha, Lord of Nagas himself.’

Gumbiya looked to his companions, Ninka, Rhamba and Salassa, Muñca, and the three kinnaris, and was about to ask, ‘What d’ y’ fink?’ Before he could speak Ninka said loudly, ‘We should go on! Let’s try the Naga Realm.’

Nods and murmurs confirmed this all round. General Punnaka called Princess Irandati over to confer, and the whole group took off straight away. Once they were settled in the naga capital Bhogavati, which was somehow both under Lake Anotatta¹⁰ in the Himalayas and below the slopes of the Western face of the Yugandhara Mountains, they met up again with their old friend Queen Samuddaja.

The story of their search was quickly recounted by Bee. When the Queen asked, ‘Isss Krisshna not helping with the sssearch? He isss the father, isss he not?’ An awkward silence hovered for a moment, then Maggot put it simply. ‘We have gone our separate ways,’ and left it at that.

Samuddaja had known Krishna since he was a boy, Amba and Tamba too. She knew his character and saw that it was not going to be wise to press the question of what had happened. Irandati and Samuddaja went into a huddle and conversed urgently in their naga tongue – to outsiders this sounded only like a flow of hisses accompanied by breaths and subtle movements of the head.

‘Dear friendsss,’ Samuddaja began, ‘sssince you do not inhabit thisss realm, any of you, and sssince sso many nagasss live in the watersss, impassable and unwelcoming to mossst of you, I sssuggessst that we nagassss look for you. Ssstay here and resst, eat, for I can sssee that you are all drained and weary from your laboursss.’

The first impulse of Maggot and her kinnari friends, and the others, was to say, ‘No, we’ll go too, somehow,’ but reason caught up with them. How would they survive?

As this realization sank in, the wisdom of Samuddaja’s advice became clear and they all agreed. It hit them then how right she was about their exhaustion too:– When had they last rested or eaten properly since they escaped from the Underworld?

---

Rhamba and Salassa, sister and brother apsaras, managed still to look elegant and to breathe sonorously as they slept. Gumbiya – fully exhausted – had reverted to his natural size in sleep, double the height of Bee, she was nevertheless contentedly curled in his right armpit with Maggot on her other side, still holding her hand in her slumbers.

On the far side of the pile of cushions, strewn across the green and gold chamber, with its spirally inlaid pillars, glittering with gems in the lamplight, Ant and Ninka were side by side, exhausted too, at least Ant was, but still muttering dozy words, full of endearments and warm secrets.

Irandati and Samuddaja had asked to borrow the precious shell fragment, in order to fully catch the scent. ‘Excussse me,’ Irandati said, then flickered a surprisingly forked tongue across the inner and outer surfaces; Samuddaja did the same. ‘We have nosssessss but thissss issss how we sssmell thingsss bessst,’ she explained. Then they had taken off, in dragon-serpent form, to search their community and the Naga Realm for information.

Even Gumbiya’s heroic snoring had not been sufficient to interrupt the rest of the sleeping seekers. They were all out, except for Ninka – who needed little sleep generally. The two naga sisters had returned by the time they all awakened. Their search too had been in vain.

Ninka had had a sleepless night not just because of the difference of constitutions but also because of a terrible truth she had been hiding. She had known from the moment they found Tambaka’s scent, and the shell fragment, that those clues had been planted there. Her deva senses discerned immediately that the group were duped by a false trail. However, being so desperate to be with Ant and so afraid she’d be called away to the Tavatimsa Heaven and thus separated from Ant for what would be long years for the kinnari, even if it was but a short time for Ninka to be feasting with her deva companions and attending to Prince Malabhari:– She had not spoken up then, and how could she say anything now? It was too shameful to admit she had known it was false all along. She was in terrible doubt as to what she should do; make a confession and be hated by everyone, including Ant; or not admit anything and carry on with this fruitless wild goose chase?

Round and round it went.

She was on the brink of breakdown and utter despair when another urgent message came from Prince Malabhari, in the Nandana Grove of the Tavatimsa Heaven. As a weird kind of relief from her dilemma, without thinking it through further, she blurted out, ‘I have to go – back to the Tavatimsa, I’ve been putting it off but it’s not possible to stay any longer. I have to go!’

‘Wha’,’ Ant was hardly awake yet. ‘How can you...?’ Ninka looked at her pleadingly and, with one last hug, she vanished from the Naga Realm and reappeared in the Nandana Grove.

---

Everyone was shocked; at the most they had seen that the beautiful, radiant Ninka was a little less glowing than usual. To Ant, all she had confided was that, ‘That annoying Prince, Malabhari, he won’t stop calling for me. It’s really irritating.’ She had had no idea that she and Ninka would soon be separated, and for who knew how long?

Ninka was good at making excuses so they been able to be together often but a few days in the Heaven of the Thirty Three was a long time in the lower reaches – a single night and day in the Tavatimsa Heaven was a hundred years in the human realm. So just part of a morning away from Tavatimsa had given her twenty years with Ant.

‘So, what do we do now?’ Bee was up and wide awake. ‘We had a supper last night so we don’t need breakfast,’ Gumbiya’s stomach, with eerily good timing, rumbled in disagreement as she said this, ‘but which direction do we go from here? We can’t risk the Realm of the Kumbhandas and we’re pretty sure that Tam’s not there, we could go to the Human Realm but we know she was brought through here so there doesn’t seem much point in that.’

Muñca cleared his throat. ‘This might seem a very long shot but, if we made a brief visit to the Tusita Heaven¹¹, I believe I could secure us an interview with Lord Maitreya¹², the future Buddha. We would need to keep it brief but, if we were properly prepared, he is almost certain to be able to give us unequivocally clear information on the baby’s whereabouts. He is a Bodhisattva, now awaiting his final birth in the Human Realm, and his principal quality is kindness; that’s what his name means.’

‘How will we all get there? I mean, the Tusita is way up in the heights,’ Bee was still to be convinced.

‘I have some skill in these areas and I think I can do it – carry all of us there, at least for a brief visit. We have to do everything we possibly can, we’ve got to try, haven’t we Miss Jambu?’

‘Let’s do it,’ Maggot replied. ‘At least this will be decisive,’ she looked around the group, her eyes etched with both determination and despair. ‘We will find her, whatever it takes.’

Notes & References