The Defeat of Māra

Buddhacarita, Chapter Thirteen: The Defeat of Māra

The great seer of that royal lineage of sages, seated beneath the Bodhi tree, had made his firm and solemn vow to attain the path of liberation.

Every spirit, dragon, and god throughout the heavens rejoiced together at this — only Māra, king of the heavens and the enemy of the Dharma, felt troubled and displeased at heart.

As the sovereign lord who holds free rein over the five desires, master of every art of warfare, hating and envying any who seek liberation, he is for this very reason called Pāpīyas.

Māra had three daughters, of beautiful form and graceful bearing, versed in every manner of art for beguiling men — foremost among all the daughters of heaven.

The first was named Rāgā, "Passion-Stained"; the second, Ratī, "Able to Delight"; the third, Tṛṣṇā, "Fit to be Loved" — and the three daughters came before him together.

They said to their father Pāpīyas: "We do not understand — what is it that troubles you so?"

Their father explained the whole matter to them, laying his feelings bare: "There is in the world a great sage, his body clad in the armor of a great vow, grasping the great bow of self-mastery and arrows sharp with wisdom, meaning to do battle and subdue every sentient being, and thereby destroy my own domain entirely.

Should I, in a single moment, prove no match for him, sentient beings will place their faith in him instead, and every one of them will turn toward the path of liberation — and my own land will then stand utterly empty, just as a person who breaks the precepts finds his own being left hollow and void.

As long as his eye of wisdom has not yet opened, my own kingdom can still remain secure — I must go now and break his resolve, and cut through the very bridge he means to cross by."

Taking up his bow and his five arrows, together with his whole retinue of sons and daughters, he made his way to that grove of auspicious peace, wishing only that no sentient being there should find any peace at all.

Seeing the great sage sitting in silent stillness, intent on crossing the sea of the three realms of existence, Māra took his powerful bow in his left hand and nocked a sharp arrow with his right, and said to the bodhisattva: "You, kṣatriya, rise at once — death is a thing most fearful and dreadful indeed. You ought instead to take up the proper duty of your own caste, cast aside this doctrine of liberation, and take up instead the arts of war and the giving of alms in merit-making assemblies, subduing the whole world beneath you, so that you may attain, in the end, the very bliss of rebirth in heaven.

This is a path of fine and excellent renown, one that every great and victorious king of the past has followed — it belongs to one of your own high and royal seed, and is no fitting task for a mere beggar.

If you do not rise even now, then let your own mind be at ease about it — but take care not to abandon your solemn vow before you have felt me loose but a single arrow.

Even Kajaṅgala, grandson of the Moon, was struck by this very arrow of mine, and though it touched him only lightly, like a breath of wind, his mind was thrown into utter madness by it.

Even sages of the deepest stillness and severest austerity, upon merely hearing the sound of this arrow of mine, have been seized at once with the greatest terror, their minds thrown into confusion and their very nature lost to them.

How much more so, then, for you, in this latter age of the world, to hope you might somehow escape this arrow of mine?

If you rise now, at once, you may yet, by good fortune, remain unharmed.

This arrow's poison is fierce and burning, and even the stoutest hearts tremble and quake at it; even one whose own strength were equal to bearing this arrow would find it hard enough to remain composed — how much more so, then, for you, who cannot bear it at all? How could you possibly remain unshaken?"

Having spoken these threats, seeking to intimidate the bodhisattva with such words, the bodhisattva's own heart remained perfectly at ease, neither doubting nor afraid.

Māra then loosed his arrow, and sent forward his three jeweled daughters as well; yet the bodhisattva did not so much as glance at the arrow, nor did he pay the three daughters any mind at all. Māra, struck with sudden unease and doubt, spoke to himself: "This very arrow once caused even the Snow Mountain's own daughter to strike Maheśvara, and was able to change even his heart entirely — and yet it has not moved the bodhisattva in the least.

It seems this arrow, and these three heavenly daughters besides, will never be enough to shift his heart, or stir in him either love or hatred — I must gather my whole army together instead, and press upon him with overwhelming force."

Even as he formed this thought, Māra's army suddenly assembled — every manner of monstrous and varied form, wielding halberds, grasping swords and blades, brandishing tree-sized lances and golden clubs, and every other implement of war besides.

Some had the heads of boars, fish, donkeys, or horses; others took the form of camels, oxen, wild bulls, or tigers; still others bore the heads of lions, dragons, or elephants, and every other kind of bird and beast besides.

Some had a single body with many heads; some had a single eye set in each of several faces; some had countless eyes at once; some had swollen bellies and elongated bodies.

Some were gaunt and emaciated, with no belly at all; some had long legs with enormous knees; some had huge, bloated feet; some bore long fangs and sharp claws.

Some had no head, no eyes, no face at all; some had two feet but many bodies; some had a great face with faces sprouting from its sides; some were the color of ash and dust.

Some shone like the light of a bright star; some had bodies wreathed in smoke and flame; some had ears like an elephant's, bearing whole mountains on their backs; some went about with hair disheveled and bodies bare.

Some wore garments of raw hide, their faces half red and half white; some were clothed in tiger skins; some, again, in the skins of serpents.

Some wore great bells at their waists; some had hair coiled up into spiral topknots; some let their hair hang loose and unbound over their bodies; some fed on the very life-essence of human beings.

Some seized the lives of men outright; some leapt about, shrieking loudly; some ran wildly, chasing after one another, and struck and injured each other in turn.

Some spun in circles through the air; some leapt and soared among the treetops; some howled and roared and bellowed, their hideous cries shaking heaven and earth.

Every one of these evil creatures surrounded the Bodhi tree, some wishing to tear the bodhisattva's very body apart, others wishing simply to devour him whole.

Fires broke out on every side, smoke and flame billowing violently into the sky; a wild, raging wind whipped up on every side, and the whole mountain forest shook and trembled.

Wind, fire, smoke, and dust all mingled together into a pitch-black darkness in which nothing at all could be seen; every god and spirit who loved the Dharma, and every dragon and demon there besides, were filled with rage at Māra's horde, weeping tears mixed with blood in their fury.

The gods of the Pure Abodes, seeing Māra assail the bodhisattva in this way — themselves free of desire and harboring no anger at all — felt only pity and sorrow for him, and came, every one of them, to see the bodhisattva sitting upright, entirely unmoved.

Surrounded by this countless horde of demons, their hideous cries shaking heaven and earth, the bodhisattva remained calm and utterly silent, his radiant countenance showing not the slightest change at all.

Just as a lion-king remains unmoved in the midst of a herd of lesser beasts, so it was here — and all who beheld it cried out in wonder, "How extraordinary! Never has such a thing been seen before!"

The demon host, driving one another on, each one advancing with his own fearsome power, urging each other forward in fierce competition, meaning to destroy him in but an instant — grinding their teeth, their eyes bulging with rage, leaping and hurling themselves about in wild confusion.

The bodhisattva watched them in silence, as one might watch children at their play, and this only made the demon horde rage all the more, redoubling their own ferocity in battle.

They lifted boulders they could not raise; those who managed to raise them could not bring them down again; they hurled spears, halberds, and sharp lances, which hung frozen in midair, refusing to fall; they summoned thunder and rained down great hailstones, which turned, instead, into flowers of five colors as they fell; they unleashed venomous dragons and serpents spitting poison, which turned, instead, into a fragrant and gentle breeze.

Every one of these creatures of every monstrous form, however much they wished to harm the bodhisattva, could not so much as shake him in the least, and instead, whatever they attempted, ended only in injuring themselves.

Māra had a sister named Meghakālī, who came before the bodhisattva holding a skull-cup in her hand, performing every manner of strange and lascivious gesture, hoping to seduce and disturb him.

Every one of these demons, in their countless hideous forms, made every kind of horrible sound, hoping to strike terror into the bodhisattva — yet they could not move so much as a single hair on his body, and every one of the demons was left in deep despair.

From the empty sky, the god Ghaṭīkāra spoke, his body hidden while his voice alone rang out: "I see that the great sage's own heart holds not the slightest thought of hatred or resentment at all — while this whole horde of demons, their hearts filled with evil and poison, generates hatred where there is nothing at all to hate.

You foolish and evil demons labor here entirely in vain, accomplishing nothing whatsoever — you ought instead to set aside this heart of anger and harm, and dwell instead in quiet and silent stillness.

Your own breath cannot even stir Mount Sumeru; fire cannot become cold, nor water blaze like fire, nor the very nature of earth cease to be level and soft and yielding — and in just this same way, you cannot possibly destroy the good fruit this bodhisattva has cultivated across so many ages.

The bodhisattva holds right thought, diligent effort applied through skillful means, the radiant light of pure wisdom, and compassion extended toward all beings alike.

These four wondrous virtues cannot possibly be severed or cut off by anyone — how, then, could you hope, by creating some mere obstruction, to prevent him from attaining the way of perfect and complete awakening?

Just as the sun's thousand rays of light are certain to dispel the darkness of the world, or as fire is obtained by the friction of wood, or water by digging into the earth — so, too, through diligent effort and the correct application of skillful means, there is nothing sought that is not, in the end, attained.

This world has no true refuge or protector, caught as it is in the poison of greed, hatred, and delusion — and it is out of compassion for sentient beings that he now seeks the very medicine of wisdom.

He does this to remove the suffering and affliction of the whole world — why, then, do you seek to trouble and disturb him?

Every being in this world, caught in confusion and delusion, clings fast to some crooked and mistaken path; the bodhisattva, cultivating the true and correct path instead, means only to guide sentient beings toward it — to trouble and disturb such a teacher, honored by the whole world, is a thing that ought never to be permitted at all.

It is like a caravan-guide in a vast and trackless wilderness, deceiving the merchants who follow him, so that they fall into deep darkness with no notion of where to go — and now, when a lamp of wisdom is being lit for their sake, why would you wish to extinguish it?

Sentient beings are utterly adrift, sinking in the great ocean of birth and death — and now, when a boat of wisdom is being built for their sake, why would you wish to sink it?

Patient forbearance is the very sprout of the Dharma, firm resolve is its very root, the discipline of moral precepts is its very ground, correct awakening is its branches and trunk, and this great tree of wisdom bears the supreme Dharma itself as its fruit, sheltering and protecting every sentient being beneath it — why, then, would you wish to cut it down?

Greed, hatred, and delusion are the very yoke and chain that bind sentient beings fast, and it is to loosen this very bondage upon sentient beings that he has cultivated ascetic practice across so many long ages — his resolve is certain to reach completion this very day, seated here upon this very spot, the true and proper seat, exactly as every buddha of ages past has sat firm upon this same vajra throne. Every other place in every direction may tremble and shift, yet this one spot alone remains forever secure and undisturbed.

He is able to withstand and receive the most wondrous absorption, and this is not a thing you are capable of destroying — you ought instead to humble your own heart, cast aside every trace of arrogance and pride, and cultivate instead a mind of true understanding, serving him with patient forbearance."

Māra, hearing this voice from the empty sky, and seeing the bodhisattva remain so calm and undisturbed, felt shame rise in him, and, his own arrogance and pride dispelled, turned back and returned to his own heavenly abode.

His whole demon host, filled with despair, collapsed in disarray, their martial fury utterly spent; every weapon and instrument of war lay scattered and abandoned across the forest floor — like the followers of a defeated enemy lord, whose whole faction is shattered the moment their leader is slain.

Once the whole demon horde had retreated and scattered, the bodhisattva's own heart remained empty and still; the light of the sun grew doubly bright, and every trace of dust and mist was entirely dispelled.

The moon shone clear and every star grew bright, with no darkness or obstruction left remaining anywhere at all; and from the empty sky, a rain of heavenly flowers fell, as an offering to the bodhisattva.