The Story of Kapila the Brahmin

Wandering through lovely forests, they came to a fair land through which the Tapati river flows, where in a lonely wood Sita, faint with thirst, said she longed for cool water as a soul weary of endless births longs for right faith; Rama led her to the nearby village of Arunagrama, home of rich farmers, and they rested in the agnihotra (fire-ritual) hall of the well-known Brahmin fire-priest Kapila, whose wife gave them water. Then Kapila returned from the forest with bilva fruit and firewood, an owl-faced man with a water pot, a knotted tuft, a long beard and the sacred thread, who lived by gleaning grain left in reaped fields, his anger like a forest fire and his words like kalakuta poison.

Seeing the guests, Kapila cursed his wife for letting them in, threatened to tie her to the cows' post and complained that these shameless, dusty men had polluted his sacred fire-place; Sita urged Rama to leave for the forest, whose trees, lakes and free deer were better than harsh villagers. Neighbours, charmed by the brothers' godlike looks, took Kapila aside to plead for one night's lodging, but he quarrelled with them too and turned on the guests like a dog snarling at an elephant, shouting at the ‘unclean ones’ to get out of his house.

Angered, Lakshmana seized the Brahmin by the feet, turned him upside down and whirled him around, but the compassionate Rama stopped him, saying that in the Jina's teaching heroes never strike an ascetic, Brahmin, cow, animal, woman, child or old person, however faulty, and that harming such a wretch would only bring infamy. Leaving the hut, Rama told Janaki that it is better to live under trees in a terrible forest, or even to die without food and water, than to stay a moment in the house of the wicked, and that they would live by rivers and in mountain caves.

The rainy season broke with black clouds, echoing thunder and lightning, and the three sheltered in the house-sized hollow of a huge banyan, home of a yaksha named Ibhakarna, who, unable to bear their radiance, told his master that heavenly beings had driven him from his place. The yaksha lord came with his gods, knew by avadhi jnana (clairvoyance) that they were the Baladeva and Narayana, two of the illustrious shalaka purushas, and out of affection built in an instant a splendid city; they woke to music on jewelled beds in a many-storied palace full of servants, yet Rama felt no wonder, for only small minds marvel at small things, and the city became famed as Ramapuri, with warriors, ministers, doorkeepers and citizens as in Ayodhya.

When Shrenika asked about the Brahmin, Gautama told how Kapila, out next day with his sickle to cut wood, was astonished to see a city of bannered mansions, a white palace like a child of Mount Kailasha, lotus lakes, gardens, temples and herds where only deer had roamed, and wondered whether it was divine magic, a Gandharva city, a fevered dream or an omen of his death. A richly adorned woman, the yakshini Sumaya, told him it was the city of King Rama, his brother Lakshmana and Queen Sita, who had made every poor man as rich as a king, and when he dropped his wood and fell at her feet she explained that its three gates were guarded by warriors with faces like lions, elephants and tigers, that only those who recited the Namokara mantra with devotion at the Jina temples by the eastern gate could enter, and that Rama loved those who kept the anuvratas and good conduct.

Seeing a way to wealth, Kapila went out of greed to the muni Charitrashura, asked about a layman's duties and heard the householder's dharma and the essence of the four anuyogas, and was so transformed that he praised the muni as cool water to the thirsty and a ship to the drowning. At home he told his wife Susharma of the wondrous Jain dharma and of Ramapuri; she too embraced it, reproaching him that he had insulted the great men who came to their courtyard, never fed the Digambara monks who are the true atithis (guests who come unannounced), and bowed to lesser gods instead of the Arhat, and Kapila took her to the same guru, where she took the vows of a laywoman.

Seeing Kapila's devotion, many Brahmins grew calm, many people became lay votaries in the dharma of Munisuvratanatha and some gave up everything to become monks; Kapila became a devout householder and set out with Susharma for Ramapuri bearing gifts, their little child on his shoulder. Terrifying Nagakumaris and grimacing, cackling vyantara spirits appeared on the way, but the couple kept chanting praises of the Jina until the yakshas, seeing their devotion, grew calm, and at the temple they circled it, bowed to the twenty-four Tirthankaras of past, present and future, to the Tirthankaras of all fifteen karmabhumis (lands of action) and to Munisuvratanatha, and prostrated themselves fully.

At the palace, Kapila caught sight of Lakshmana, panicked at the memory of his harsh words, wished the earth would swallow him and fled, leaving his wife behind; Lakshmana laughed and told Rama, who sent servants to reassure him, and he came back trembling, laid his gifts before them with a blessing and praised them. When Rama asked why he now honoured those he had thrown out, Kapila said he had not recognized a great lord in disguise, as fire under ash goes unseen, for the world honours wealth and not worth; Rama agreed that wealth wins friends and kin, but said true wealth is joined to dharma, true dharma to compassion and true compassion means giving up meat, without which no other renunciation shines.

Kapila recalled how Sanatkumara Chakravarti, so handsome that gods came to see him, became a monk and long found no proper alms until a poor man of Vijayapura fed him and the five wonders appeared, and wept that he himself had failed such great men; Rama consoled him, Janaki comforted Susharma, and at Rama's command they were bathed from golden pitchers, feasted and loaded with clothes, ornaments and riches. Back home amid many-storied mansions and herds, Kapila found no peace for having driven away the thirsty Sita and the moon-faced brothers, so, telling his weeping family that attachment to kin keeps the soul burning in samsara, he left his wife and children his house of jewels and eighteen thousand cows, became a Digambara monk and disciple of the renowned ascetic Anandamati, and practised great austerities.