Sanchi isn’t far from my home, a fortunate proximity that allows for frequent visits. It is the only place associated with Buddha that I have visited so often. Curiously, Buddha himself is said never to have set foot there. Yet Sanchi holds a revered place on the Buddhist map. Even in places where Gautama did not tread, his presence is felt. Though his journey in the outside world has ended, in the inner world, his footprints remain fresh, as if he has just walked by. What is love but this: the inward sensation of something that has already transpired outside and the continuous reliving of that experience.
How natural it is that when Buddha is mentioned, a soft melody of love begins to play in the background.
Buddha’s path was not one of worship (aradhana), but of devotion (upasana). Derived from “upa” (near) and “asana” (sitting), “upasana” conveys the idea of sitting close to oneself – an inward practice, contrasting with the external objects and rituals required of worship.
In the stupas, viharas and museums of Sanchi, numerous statues of Buddha and Bodhisattvas can be found, both intact and fragmented. Yet the one that captivates me the most is the statue of Gautama Buddha seated in the earth-touching mudra.
This fragmented relic, located away from the main stupa, tells the story of Buddha’s triumph over Mara, the final obstacle to enlightenment. Mara, of course, is none other than Kamadeva. Buddhism could never completely separate from Hinduism. It originated as a response to Vedic religion, which is why many Hindu deities find a place within Buddhism, though not with the same grandeur. Brahma and Indra, for instance, appear in Buddhist religion, but as subordinates to Buddha. Kamadeva, too, is present under the name Mara, symbolizing illusion, delusion, allurement and deceit along with several other qualities.
Kamadeva was the mind-born son of Brahma, yet he never achieved complete dominance or lasting impact on his own. Despite his charm and prowess, he invariably faced defeat in some way or another; so he constantly appealed to Brahma to give him new powers. Initially, Kamadeva was bestowed with Rati as his consort. Subsequently, he gained Basant as a companion, followed by Preeti as another wife. Even with these allies, he found himself defeated on various occasions, and so he was granted two additional wives. When everlasting victory still eluded him, Brahma amalgamated all the virtuous and malevolent thoughts of creation into an immense legion, numbering in the millions. This formidable army was named Mara, which later, in Buddhist tradition, became synonymous with Kamadeva. Mara commanded a colossal army and had innumerable daughters whose mission was to ensnare and deceive humanity. At Sanchi, the northern gateway vividly depicts Mara’s formidable army and his beguiling daughters.
Let us go back to a wondrous, transcendent moment from 2500 years ago:
Under the Bodhi tree, Buddha sits absorbed in meditation. At that moment, Mara, with his army, attacks him. Buddha, through his meditative power, defeats the army. Finally, Mara himself challenges Buddha, demanding that he move from that place.
Buddha responds, “I have attained enlightenment. This place is mine.”
Mara questions, “Who will testify that you have attained enlightenment? That this place belongs to you?”
Buddha manifests his lotus mudra; with his left hand resting on his knee and the index finger of his right hand touching the earth, he says, “The earth will testify.” At that moment, the ground trembles. The earth consents to testify.
A frightened Mara admits defeat and leaves. Though Mara reappears in Buddha’s life on several occasions thereafter, it is always with hands folded in subservience.
This mudra is historic. The story is remarkable, and the symbolism extraordinary. When it comes to seeking testimony, all religions and great souls point to the sky. Buddha alone, for testimony, points his finger downwards, touches the earth and signifies that all truths are here – on this earth, in this very world. Not in another world. Not in another universe. The transcendental and the imminent are both contained within this world. And all that exists is within this moment. Nothing lies beyond this moment. Nothing is farther from this earth. Nothing is closer than this earth.
A world without stories is a world without life. Remove the story of Buddha, and Sanchi would be a shadow of itself, its significance void. Without a story, every individual is a stone statue – a statue that we can see but not know, touch but not comprehend. Stories are the breath flowing through the nostrils of creation. Buddha’s presence, both in this physical world and within our inner worlds, has enriched the tradition of storytelling, conveying vital cultural narratives, myths and histories, and has deepened our understanding of human experience.
There are stories, many carefully recorded, many a part of oral history and many perhaps persisting, like twigs caught in the currents of history, clinging to some hidden vegetation beyond the reach of our current historical scrutiny. Here is another:
Years before Gautama Buddha, there was Kashyapa Buddha. It is said he lived for 20,000 years and imparted knowledge to only 20,000 people.
A certain hill called Kukkutpada stands near Bihar. Kashyapa Buddha went to the hill and lay beneath it. While sleeping, he waits for the future Buddha, Maitreya, to come to him in some distant epoch. For Maitreya, he weaves a fabric with his sleep.
Upon Maitreya’s arrival, the hill will open like a door. Kashyapa will rise from his slumber, gift his garment of sleep to the new Buddha before ascending to the Tushita Heaven.
Our heart is a hill.
Underneath it, a Buddha sleeps,
waiting for that other Buddha
before whom our heart, like a hill, can open.
The knock is also the door.
Excerpted with permission from ‘My Forever Buddha Musings’ in The Master of Unfinished Things, Geet Chaturvedi, translated from the Hindi by Anita Gopalan, Penguin Random House India.
