THE SHUTTER WILL CLOSE AT SIX

   Frank climbed the stairs of a delivery center and knocked on the chief’s door.

“Come in,” Richard said.

When Frank opened the door, Richard took his eyes off his computer and looked at him.

“Oh, Frank, you are very early,” he said and picked up a shipping document from the drawer.

“Be sure to deliver the goods before six,” Richard said.

“All right,” Frank said.

Frank received the document. Walking to the door, he looked out of the window. The sky was dark and the trees were swaying.

“It’s threatening. Safe drive, OK?” Richard said.

“Ten-four,” Frank said.

Frank approached the door and was just about to open it, when Richard said, “The shutter will close at six, you know.”

“I know,” Frank said.

Closing the door, Frank thought the chief was being repetitive as usual. He descended the stairs and went to the truck departure depot. He climbed into the driver’s seat and looked at his watch, an Omega antique, which was his father’s memento. He felt his father was protecting him when he wore the watch. It showed 4:06. He checked the time on the driver’s panel clock. It was the same: 4:06.

   Frank was a truck driver on the air cargo department of the United Parcel Service. He had been working for it for 16 years. He had never been late for the delivery deadline, because he made it a rule to leave the delivery center early.

It began raining ten minutes after Frank left. He was driving on Interstate 40 heading for the Raleigh-Durham International Airport. It was about an hour and a half drive from the delivery center to the airport. It began to rain when he drove for about ten minutes.

   The truck was carrying 120 cardboard boxes of medical goods. The label of each cardboard read, “Antimalarial: GlaxoSmithKline.”

   Frank thought it was coincident that he was carrying antimalarial; only yesterday, he and his five-year-old daughter Jane were watching a documentary TV program featuring the malaria epidemic in Africa. On the screen many small children were lying on the beds. The announcer was explaining:

   “Malaria is spreading at a horrific speed in Kenya and the neighboring countries such as Uganda, Tanzania, and Sudan. The death toll from malaria in Africa last year was more than 656,000. Children under five are dying from malaria at the rate of one per one minute. The disease-stricken countries lack anti-malaria medicines and medical exam equipment. . . .”

   “Dad, what is malaria?” Jane said to Frank.

   “It’s a horrible disease,” Frank said.

   “Horrible? Does it mean the children will die?”

   “Yes, but malaria is spreading in Africa, not here in the United States, so you are safe,” Frank said.

   “But they are dying from the disease. I feel sorry for them.”

   “Yes, but anti-malaria medicines are now being sent to Africa from all over the world. So, they won’t die.”

   Frank thought Jane’s voice was mixed with tears.

Interstate 40 with three lanes each way stretched straight endlessly between tall trees to the horizon.

The rain began to fall hard. The wipers moved right and left busily. It was a monotonous drive. Only a few vehicles were running ahead of Frank’s truck. Sometimes a large truck approached with a rumbling of the earth from the left rear and passed with a splashing plume. Their dim red taillights faded away in the distance and disappeared in the fog. Frank looked in the rear mirror and recognized few vague headlights far off.

The driver’s panel clock showed 4:37. He was on schedule. The last overseas cargo flight in the Raleigh-Durham International Airport took off at 7:17. So, the shutter of the Cargo Terminal Building closed at 6:00 sharp. Until last September, the shutter was open 24 hours. So, sometimes some trucks were delayed for several or, in the worst case, more than 20 minutes. In such cases the clerks in charge of cargo had to work strenuously so that the cargo would be in time for the flight. As a result, once in a while they had to delay it. Therefore, to prevent such trouble, they made a regulation to close the shutter at 6:00 beginning in October.

Frank thought he would return home around 9 o’clock in the evening after the day’s work. Jane would still be awake, he thought. He imagined the conversation that he would have with her:  

“Jane, guess what. I’ve done a good deed today”

“A good deed?”

“Do you remember yesterday’s TV program? It’s about the African children suffering from malaria.”

“Yes, I saw many children lying on the beds.”

“I carried anti-malaria medicines to the Raleigh-Durham International Airport today.”

“Oh, then an airplane is now flying them to Africa.”

“Yes, they will reach the children tomorrow”

“Good. Then, they won’t die, will they?”

“No, they won’t.”

Frank imagined Jane’s smile. 

 

The wind began to blow hard. Frank dropped speed in the driving rain. There was little traffic ahead and behind. He drove on the highway eastward on and on. He thought his wife and Jane were talking happily with each other preparing supper. He looked at the clock on the driver’s panel. It was nearly 5:00. He would reach the airport in 30 minutes. Usually he did not take a rest  before arriving at the airport, but this time the rain and wind were so hard that he decided to take a rest.

He crossed the bridge at the Crabtree Creek and left the Interstate 40 and drove down Airport Boulevard at the Morrisvile Interchange. The boulevard was a four-lane road that lead to the airport. It was a short-cut to the airport but when it rained the road became slippery and drivers felt a little tense because it had no guardrail. After about a ten-minute drive, he saw Capital Chop Café.

He got out of the truck at the café’s parking lot. It was surrounded by tall trees whose tops were turning red. The temperature around here dropped to zero degrees Celsius in late October. He saw the Great Smoky Mountains in the mist in the west. He walked across the parking lot to the café entrance. It was a nice café made of brick with a green-colored roof.

Frank opened the door. There were around 15 tables and 10 customers. He went on to the lunch counter and sat at a seat.

“May I help you?” a clerk said.

“A cup of coffee,” Frank said.

He was looking at the clerk brewing coffee in a coffee maker, when he heard a little girl’s laughing voice. He turned around and saw a pretty little girl with red hair and an old woman sitting at a table just behind Frank. The girl’s name was Nathalie and the woman was her grandmother named Barbara.

Nathalie said, “Hello” when her eyes met with Frank’s and smiled. She looked around five years old, the same age as Jane.

“How old are you, cute girl?” Frank said.

“Five,” Nathalie said.

“Is she your grandchild? She is lovely, isn’t she?” Frank said to Barbara.

“Thank you,” Barbara said.

“Here’s you’re, coffee,” the clerk said.

Frank took a sip and said to Barbara, “Driving in the rain exhausts you, I guess. Are you heading for the airport?”

“Yes, my son is coming back from Japan. He has been away for three years,” she said. 

 “That means this cutie was only two when he left,” Frank said.

“Yes, Nathalie, that’s her name, is looking forward to seeing her father,” she said.

“He will be surprised to see her. She’s grown so big,” Frank said.

“Yes, he will, but we have often sent her pictures to him.”

“I see,” he said and looked at Nathalie.

“You will soon see your dad,” he said.

“Yes, I will hug him hard,” Nathalie said.

“He’ll be so happy,” Barbara said and smiled at Frank.

“By the way, how long does it take to get to the airport, do you know?” Barbara said.

“About half an hour or so. I am driving to it, too,” Frank said.

“Oh, is that so?”

Barbara said to Nathalie, “Half an hour to the airport, he says.”

“Good. Drive carefully, grandma. It’s raining hard.”

 “All right. Well, we’ll be starting now. Are you going to leave the sandwich?” Barbara said to the girl.

“No, I’ll eat it all.”

“OK, then, drive safely,” Frank said.

“Thank you,” Barbara said.

Frank turned around and faced the counter. The television on the wall was broadcasting a news program:

“The weather forecast says a local torrential rain is expected here. If you are driving and come upon landslides or rapidly rising waters, turn around and find another route. Meanwhile, the flight service at the Raleigh-Durham International Airport is normal. Next news. Tornados hit many places in Oklahoma and North Carolina around three this afternoon….”

When Frank was watching television, Barbara approached him.

“It’s been nice talking to you,” she said.

“Thanks,” Frank said.

Barbara walked toward the entrance door taking Nathalie’s hand. The girl said to him, “Bye-bye” waving her hand.

A few minutes later, Frank paid the bill and went out of the café. It was still raining. When he was walking toward his truck, he noticed a white Toyota van passing by him. He saw Barbara behind the wheel nodding slightly to him while Nathalie at the passenger’s seat was waving her hand.

Frank got on the truck and looked at his watch. It was 5:10. He thought he could make it before 5:40.

He drove at 60. Soon he saw a white van ahead running slowly, probably at around 55. Water was spraying from the rear wheels. Frank reduced the pressure on the gas pedal. He didn’t have to hurry.

Frank switched on the car radio to hear a program “What Would You Do?” It had just begun. Prof. Handel of Harvard University was talking to the audience. Frank had watched his programs before and had been interested in his talks on philosophy. The professor said:

 “Suppose you are standing by railroad tracks. You see a man sleeping with his head on the tracks on your left hand. When you see your right side, you see a train coming in the distance. Trying to save the man, you happen to see further down the tracks from him a huge giant rock. If you do not get rid of the rock, the train will collide with it killing many passengers, but if you leave him as he is, the train may screech to a halt or will run over him and eventually come to a stop after bumping him. Here is a question. Would you leave the man as he is or would you save him?”

“Is the sleeping man my friend or relative?” a male student said.

   “No, he is a complete stranger,” the professor said.

   “Then, saving many passengers is more important than only one. So, I feel sorry for the man, but I’ll leave him as he is sleeping.”

   “I see. Is there anyone who diesagrees? Isn’t there anyone who will save the sleeping man?”

   Frank tuned to a different radio station. Pop music came on. Listening to the music, he thought what he would do if he were standing by the railway tracks. He would choose the passengers, of course. Why did the professor pose such an obvious question? Everybody would agree with the student. He thought he would never be in such a situation, so it did not apply to him anyway.

He looked at the driver’s panel clock. It was 5:16. He was driving along the Brier River, which ran in the same direction as his truck was heading. The river was about 20 yards wide. It was running fast, swollen and muddy, because of the rain. It looked about two feet deeper than usual.

   Barbara’s white van was still ahead traveling at 55. She was keeping a constant speed. He looked at the rear mirror. There were a few vehicles with the headlights on behind him. Suddenly the van swayed left and right. It might have gone into a skid, he thought. He pressed the brake pedal slightly to keep a safe distance from the van. It began to run steadily, but it swayed again. Watch out! It hit the median strip on the left side, bounced to the right, and ran out of the road. Frank stopped the truck. He saw the van sliding down the bank slope and jumping into the river. It floated for a while, gradually sinking, and stopped just around the middle of the river. The lower half of the van was under water. Frank hurriedly got out of the truck and ran down the bankside.

   He gazed at the van in the foggy rain at the riverside and discerned Barbara and Nathalie. Barbara seemed to be frantically hitting the window with what looked like an umbrella. The door would not open because of the electric system failure or the water pressure. Barbara, recognizing Frank, waved her hand. She seemed to be shouting, “HELP!” Frank waved back. He thought the whole van would sink in no time as the river level was rapidly rising. Even if he called emergency, would the rescue crew reach there in time? There was no time to lose.

   Frank ran back to the truck, opened the equipment box, and took out an evacuation hammer. He grabbed the packing rope, too. All right, he would rescue them. Wait a moment. He looked at his watch. It was 5:25. He wondered. What should he do? It would take at least 10 minutes to the airport. It meant he had to leave there at 5:45 at the latest. Could he rescue them within 20 minutes? The river was running wild. It would take time even to reach the van. What if he was swept away by the water? He did not have confidence to rescue them in 20 minutes. Suddenly he heard Jane’s sad voice, “Are they going to die?” He heard Prof. Handel’s question, “Which would you chose, the sleeping man or the passengers?” He had never been late in delivering ever since he became the truck driver. He had duty to deliver the medicine to the airport to save the African children.

If he should be late, the company would have to pay penalty charges to both the airport and the medicine company. Furthermore, late deliveries would be reported to the Drive-A-Check Services. He could not spare time to rescue the old woman and the girl.

   Frank took out a smartphone. He had no time to call the delivery center to tell them the situation. He called 911. A staffer answered.

   “This is an emergency. A car is sinking in the Brier River along the Airport Boulevard. About 10 miles from Raleigh-Durham International Airport toward Interstate 40. Hurry up. My name’s Frank Howard, a truck driver for the United Parcel Service.”

   Frank returned to the truck and started the engine. He prayed that the river would not swell any more and that the rescue team would come soon. He had to do what he had to do. He looked at the wagon in the river. He imagined Barbara hitting the window desperately with an umbrella in her thin bloody hands. He almost heard Nathalie crying. Please, hold on. He pressed the gas pedal.

   Was he doing the right thing? Was he? How dare he leave them? How dare he? He stopped the truck and looked at the rear mirror. No vehicles behind. He got into reverse gear. He drove the truck fast in reverse. When he came the nearest to the wagon, he jumped out of the truck with the hammer and the rope in his hands. He tied the end of the rope to a tree on the bank and wound the other end around his body. He ran down to the river, jumped into it, and walked toward the wagon with careful steps. The torrent hit his huge body and tortured the tenovaginitis in his left leg. He approached the wagon inch by inch. When he approached within four yards of it, his eyes met with Barbara’s. She looked relieved. Nathalie was standing on the passenger seat. She had undone the seatbelt. Three yards more. He looked inside the wagon. The lower half of the wheel was in the water. It was coming up to the level of Barbara’s chest. Two yards more. A yard. He extended his left arm and grabbed the fender mirror. He gave Barbara signs to move back. She drew back. Frank swung the hammer up and broke the window into pieces with a blow. He tied the end of the rope to the wheel.

   “Now, get out,” Frank said to Barbara.

   “Nathalie first, Nathalie first,” she said.

   Barbara lifted the girl in her arms and pushed her out of the window.

   Frank pulled her out of the window and held her on his back.

   “Hold on to me tightly,” he said.

   Nathalie put her arms around his neck from behind. He held the arms with his left hand and pulled the rope with his right hand. It was tight. He began to walk toward the riverbank. The gush of the water pushed him hard. He resisted the current with his all might. His left leg ached. It was still raining hard.

   When he put down the girl on the riverbank, he looked at the wagon. Its hood was under water. Barbara was waiting for him with her head stuck out of the window.    

Frank grabbed the rope and step by step returned to Barbara. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her out.

“Grab the rope and go first,” he said.

Frank followed Barbara close behind her. They moved slowly and carefully. When they reached within seven yards of the riverbank, she slipped and fell in the river. She was almost being carried away by the current. By a hair’s breadth, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. She clenched him. Her hair was all drenched. She coughed hard. Her lips were pale, trembling. She stiffened up.

“I can’t. I can’t move,” she said feebly.

“Come on. Just one more try. Look at Nathalie,” Frank said.

Nathalie was waving her hands, screaming, “Grandma!”

“No, I can’t,” she repeated.

She was trembling. Her teeth were chattering. She was holding the rope tight. That seemed to be all she could do at the moment. Frank thought he had to hold her on his back, but he did not have confidence to carry her to the bank with his aching left leg. She might clench my neck and choke him. He could not abandon her in the middle of the river. It was running wild and swelling fast. What could he do?

Just then, he heard a police siren. He looked up at the bank and found a patrol car, an ambulance, and two rescue cars. Thank God.

“The rescue team has come. Look. Over there.” he said to Barbara.

Barbara looked at the vehicles. Her drawn face looked relieved.

The siren stopped. About ten members of the team rushed down to the bank.

“Hold on. Do not move!” a rescue member shouted through a handheld microphone over the rain.

Five members entered the river and approached Frank and Barbara. Each member wore a life jacket and had a rope tied around their bodies.

When they reached Frank and Barbara, they put them in the life jackets. First, three rescue members supported and dragged Barbara to the riverbank. The other two sandwiched him from both sides and lead him to the bank carefully.

   When Barbara reached the bank, Nathalie flung her arms around her and said, “Grandma!” When Frank got to the bank, he saw the wagon. The whole body was under water except for its roof. Barbara and Nathalie were carried into the ambulance.

   Frank, coming to himself, looked at his watch. It was 5:49. Eleven minutes till the closing time. He could make it if he drove the truck at full speed.

   “Please get in the ambulance,” a rescue member said to Frank.

   “Thanks, but I have urgent business,” Frank ran toward his truck. When he was about to get in, a rescue member caught up to him and said, “Just to confirm, your name’s Frank Howard, a truck driver for the United Parcel Service. Is that right?”

   Frank said, “Yes,” and ignited the engine and started the truck. The rescue member said, “We’ll contact you later. Take care,” but Frank could not hear him.

   May God help Frank make it! May God help Frank! He desperately prayed.

   Soon he saw the Cargo Terminal Building. He could make it. He looked at the driver’s panel clock. It was 6:12. Twelve? Why? Impossible! He looked at his watch. It was 5:49, the same time as he had looked at it before. Damn it! The watch had stopped because of the water. It was not water-proof. The shutter must have closed already. He remembered his colleague driver’s story. He had reached the cargo building five minutes late, but the shutter had already been closed. He could do nothing about it. It was nonsense to drive at full speed.

   Suddenly he felt exhausted. His clothes felt cold. What had he done? He shouldn’t have rescued the woman and the girl. It was too late regretting it. He should take a rest, he thought.

   He looked blank as if his spirit had gone away. He released the accelerator. When he reached the airport, he drove the truck to the parking area and stopped it. He entered the north gate of the airport building, turned left, and headed for a buffet “Voyage.” As he walked, wet footsteps were left on the floor. When he entered the buffet, he felt relieved. It was warm. The aroma of coffee comforted him.

   Several customers in the buffet stared at him, who was drenched to the skin from top to toe. He sat at the counter seat and ordered coffee and a pancake.

“What’s the matter with you, mister? You’re all wet?” the clerk said.

“Oh, I fell into a river,” Frank said.

“You’re kidding?”

“No. I’m serious.”

“That’s too bad,” the clerk smiled wryly.

The clerk handed to him a dry towel.

Frank took a sip of coffee and felt a little relaxed. He buttered the pancake and smothered it in syrup. He began to eat it silently. He remembered the things that had happened at the river.

 

 To be continued

CATS AND DOGS AND PANTHERS

Last December I flew to Britain to attend the International Meteorological Conference held in London. It was to discuss the recent abnormal weather that had taken place in the city called Catadoupe near Canterbury.

I wanted to visit the city before attending the conference. So, upon arrival at Paddington Station, I bought a ticket for Catadoupe. As I had about 30 minutes before the train started, I dropped in at a station café and ate some snack listening to the radio weather forecast. It said:

“Torrential downpours are being predicted in Catadupe this evening. The rainfall intensity is expected to be 120 heads per hour. The residents are strongly recommended to take every precaution to prevent injury.”

I wondered why the radio said, “120 heads” instead of “120 millimeters.” Also I did not understand about the caution against injury.

When I arrived at Catadupe around five o’clock, the sky was threatening. While I was walking along the street to my hotel, I noticed that every pedestrian was carrying an air-raid hood under his or her arm. A middle-aged kind-looking pedestrian happened to glance at me and walked quickly to me.

“Excuse me,” she said. “But I presume you are a stranger here. Do you have a hood?”

“No, I don’t,” I said.

“I have a spare. Please use this. The first one will drop at any moment,” she said and walked away in haste.

I wondered why she gave it to me and what “the first one” was. When I walked for a few minutes, I saw, just in front of me, a cat falling from the sky. It landed on the ground on its paws, meowed, and ran away. I looked up at the dark sky wondering why it had dropped. I saw nothing unusual.

The next moment, however, I heard a dog’s barking coming down closer and closer to me in the air. I looked at the direction of the barking. A dog was falling. It landed on the ground, barked, and ran away. Then something heavy struck my shoulder, thud, and dropped on the ground. It was a bulldog. I looked up, and lo and behold! I saw hundreds of cats and dogs falling from the sky. Immediately I wore the hood and dashed to the hotel. As I ran, I saw thousands of cats and dogs falling before my eyes. They were making a loud noise, mewing and barking. I ran and ran. My head and shoulders were being bumped by the falling small animals. That’s why “120 heads,” I thought as I was running.

At last I was surrounded by all kinds of cats and dogs in all directions: large and small, black and dapple, from calico cats to Siameses, from Dobermans to dachshunds. Some were jumping around me, others chasing after each other, barking and mewing. I looked up and saw high in the sky innumerable tiny black spots coming down. As they fell, they became larger and larger, until around 15 meters above me, they revealed their sizes and breeds, and whether they were cats or dogs. I had to shelter from the air raid. I looked around. All the doors and windows of the houses nearby were tightly closed. No one was walking. There was nowhere to take refuge. I stood helplessly among the roaring animals.

Suddenly I saw a bus with headlights on approaching to me. It had a triangular-shaped snow-plow fixed on the front.　As it advanced through the sardined cats and dogs, the V-shaped blade cleared them away. It stopped just in front of me. I was unknowingly standing at a bus stop. The door opened. As I stepped in, a huge black cat tried to sneak in. “This is for me, not you,” I said and shushed it out of the way. The door was shut. There were five passengers. I sat in the front row.

As the bus was slowly advancing, I heard the roof of the bus making a tremendous noise. It sounded as if hundreds of cannon balls in a battlefield were striking the bus: bang, bang, thud, thud, wump, wump.

As I watched the cats and dogs from the window, I noticed they were all heading in the same direction.

“Where are they going?” I asked the driver.

“To a river. Over there, you see the bridge,” he said.

I looked forward and saw an old wooden bridge. Soon the bus approached it and began to cross it. I looked down at the river. It had no water but was congested with hundreds of thousands of cats and dogs. They were running downriver. I opened the side window a little, I heard them crying: meow, meow, arf, arf, bowwow, ruff, ruff.

The bus began to shake repeatedly. It shook as if it bumped into hard objects.

“Hold on! They are crashing against the bridge footings,” the driver shouted.

All of a sudden the bridge began to collapse. The bus fell into the midst of cats and dogs. It broke into two or three parts, throwing me into the torrent of animals. I was pushed and jerked and bitten and bounced and scratched by cats and dogs. I fell. Cats and dogs were trampling me. I was flattened by the tremendous number of paws. Resisting the torrent, I stood up with all my strength, but soon I was pushed and bounced and fell. I repeated falling and standing, falling and standing. I was exhausted. I was panting like a dog. I was wailing like a cat. “Heaven, help me,” I said in a feeble voice, but realized that the heaven was thickly occupied by cats and dogs.

I almost fainted and fell on the river bed on my back. Cats and dogs ran and jumped over my body relentlessly. My eyesight was blurred. I looked at the sky. Clouds were beginning to clear away. The noise of the animals began to subside. Fewer and fewer of them stampeded across my body. Soon the sun began to shine brightly. Out of a blue sky, all the cats and dogs evaporated.

The next day I attended the meteorological conference in a wheel chair and reported my first-hand experience in Catadupe. After a month of rehabilitation I flew back to Japan. Three days later when I was walking along a Tokyo street, hyo or panthers began to fall.

                       

MIRACLE TEARS

This story takes place in an ancient India about 2300 years ago, or in other words, about 100 years after Buddha’s death. In those days India was ruled by King Ashoka, who spread Buddhism all over India.

   On this day, King’s son Prince Kunala was praying for his deceased mother, former Queen Padmavati in the reliquary shrine in the palace. Kunala was 20 years old. He lit several incense sticks, raised them above his head in front of a golden Buddha statue. When he raised them the third time, he heard noise outside the shrine. His step mother, Queen Tishyaraksha, was arguing with the guards.

   “We are sorry. You can’t enter the shrine. Prince is now praying,” the chief of the guards said.

   “That’s why I am asking you to open the door. I am here to pray,” the queen said irritated.

   “We were ordered not to allow anyone to enter the shrine.”

   “I know, but who do you think I am? I am the queen. Are you going to offend me?”

   “No, but…”

   “OK, then. Open the door.”

   The guard reluctantly opened it. The shrine was a small dark room with a Buddha statue seated on the altar. The flickering light from the innumerous candles was illuminating the golden statue. Curly smoke of incense was rising. Closing the door behind her, Queen Tishyaraksha approached Prince Kunala, and sat down beside him. The strong smell of perfume from her skin, mixed with the incense smell, mesmerized the prince. Her clothes were sprayed with aphrodisiac. The queen was 28 years old. She had become the queen after the death of the former queen Padmavati. She was Kunala’s step mother as well as the “mother” of the Maurya Empire.

“Mother, what has brought you here?” Kunala said to her.

“I’ve come here to pray for the deceased queen together with you,” she said.

Kunala wanted to pray alone. He didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone, even by the queen. He was offended but this was not the place to quarrel with her.

“Oh, then, let’s pray together,” he said.

The queen lit some incense sticks and erected them in the incense holder. The two prayed silently for a few minutes. Nothing was heard except their faint chanting of a Buddha sutra.

Suddenly, the queen forced Kunala down onto the floor and got on top of his body, her thighs exposed. She held his head with her hands and tried to kiss his lips frantically.

   “What are you doing, Mother?” Kunala said surprised.

   “I cannot contain myself any longer,” she said wildly.

   “Stop, Mother!”

   “Don’t call me ‘mother.’”

   “But, Mother.”

   “Kunala, my Kunala. Hug me, hug me.”

   Tishyaraksha took off her sari, swung her hair, grasped his hand and pressed it hard on her breast.

 

MIRACLE TEARS　part 2

“Kunala, hug me, hug me,” she said passionately.

   “Stop it, please. I’ll call the guards,” he said.

   “No one is allowed to be in. I want you. I want you,” she was desperate.

   “The king will get furious.”

   “He is an old, useless man. I don’t give a damn. I want a young body like yours.”

   Kunala pushed her away and tried to stand up, but Tishyaraksha grasped his leg with her hands. He fell down on her. She tied her arms and legs around his body like a snake. She was determined never to loosen them even if she died. She was half naked. She was gasping. Her eyes were fiery with prurient blood. Kunala untied her arms with effort, pushed her hard, and stood up.

   “Kunala, Kunala, Don’t go away,” she said in a painful voice.

   Kunala walked fast to the door, ran his fingers through his hair, adjusted his clothes, and opened the door.

   “The queen is still praying. Don’t interrupt her,” he said to the guard.

   “Yes, sir.”

   Left alone in the reliquary shrine, Tishyaraksha was shedding tears of frustration lying on the floor, but after a while she suddenly stopped sobbing and stood up, determined. Her face had changed into an ogre’s. It looked as if two horns had grown in her untidy hair. Her eyes were full of hatred and fury. Her crooked lips exposed two fangs. She looked as if she would suck Kunala’s blood till he died.

   “Damn it!” she thought. “How dare you bring shame on me? You’ll regret this. I’ll get revenge. I’ve never failed in my schemes. I’ve become a maid of honor, a concubine, and now the queen. Nothing has obstructed my way. I’ve got what I wanted. I’ll abuse you in the cruelest manner. Just you wait, Kunala!”

 

   Tishyaraksha had belonged to the lowest class, Sudra, but she had been gifted with beauty and talent of dancing. She had been selected as a member of the court dancing group at the age of 15.

One day when the 20^th celebration of the king’s enthronement was held in the court, Tishyaraksha danced in front of him. He was instantaneously entranced by her. That night she became a concubine. After becoming a concubine, she often attracted the king with intriguing talk, sometimes cunningly speaking ill of other concubines. She also lured ministers, and finally gained the first rank concubine, next to the queen. Now all she had to do was to get rid of Queen Padmavati.

   Tishyaraksha pretended to be the most obedient to the queen, but she was always looking for a chance to assassinate her.

   One early summer day three years before Tishyaraksha was rejected by Kunala, Queen Padmavati had been enjoying boating in the court pond to cool herself. Suddenly she had fallen suffering from heat stroke. The temperature in the capital city of Pataliputra sometimes reached around 40 degrees. The queen was 39 years old.

   When Tishyaraksha was informed of the queen’s sickness, she smiled at heart and decided to inquire after her health. The next morning she passed the queen’s palace garden, walked along the long carpeted corridor, and stood in front of the queen’s room.

   “I’ve come to inquire after Her Majesty. Please let me in,” she said to the queen’s maid.

   The maid disappeared for a minute and returned.

   “The queen is glad to meet you. Please enter,” she said.

   When Tishyaraksha entered the room, the marble walls were reflecting the sunlight through the windows. There was a slight scent. The queen was lying on the bed with two maids standing beside it. Tishyaraksha walked to the bed.

   “Your Highness, how are you this morning?” she said.

   “I feel better today, Thank you for coming,” the queen said.

   “I heard your appetite is poor, and so I’ve brought special food to you. I myself made these cakes. My mother used to make them when I had a low appetite due to fever. The cakes are cool and contain a nutrient rich medical herb. It will help you recover your health. I hope you like them,” Tishyaraksha said.

  MIRACLE TEARS　part 3

 

   Tishyaraksha gave the cakes to the maid. There were 15 of them, each as large as a coin. The maid put them on a plate and brought it to Queen Padmavati. The queen got up and ate one of them.

   “This is good. It’s cool and sweet,” she said.

   “I put them in the well water,” Tishyaraksha said.

   The queen ate a few more and began to talk with Tishyaraksha, who praised the queen’s son, Prince Kunala.

   “The prince’s eyes are as clear as crystal. They are attractive and shining,” she said.

   “That’s right. Do you know why he is named Kunala?” the queen said.

   “No, I don’t. Please tell me.”

   “Kunala is the name of a bird living in the Himalayas. The bird’s eyes are clear and shining. They are also beautiful. When the king and I saw the prince’s eyes at his birth, we were impressed by his beautiful eyes. So we named him after the bird.”

   “I see. He’s got a wonderful name.”

   After talking for some more time, Tishyaraksha told the queen that she would have to leave her, for talking too long would be bad for her health.

She stood up and began to leave the room.

   “Ah, I almost forgot,” Tishyaraksha said. “I’ve brought some incense. It gives off a nice odor. It will calm you and put you into a good sleep. Please burn the incense when you go to sleep,”

   “Thank you.”

   Tishyaraksha handed the incense to the maid.

   “Your Highness, I will come and see you again. I sincerely hope you will get well soon,” she said and left the queen’s room.

   When she left the gate of the queen’s palace, she turned around and looked back at it for a while. She smiled inwardly. She thought she would get the queen’s position sooner or later.

   She had put in the cakes and the incense slight amount of opium and poison made from rosebay leaves. Once you eat the cake, you want to eat them again.

   Several days later, Tishyaraksha visited the queen

   “Welcome, Tishyaraksha. How have you been? I’ve been waiting for you. Oh, you’ve brought the cakes. I am very fond of them,” the queen said happily.

   “I am glad you like them,” Tishyaraksha said and handed them to the maid. The queen began to eat one.

   “In addition to these,” she said eating the cake. “I also love the incense. That makes me relaxed. I can sleep very well.”

   Since then, whenever Tishyaraksha visited the queen, she handed the cakes and the incense to the maid. Tishyaraksha smiled in her heart thinking “Haha, my plan is working.”

The queen began to lose weight and became weaker and weaker. In six months, she was like a skeleton. Her eyes were fishy. She often stuttered. The king ordered the shaman and the doctor to cure her. The shaman prayed hard burning a lot of incense in the queen’s room. The doctor made decoction for her. The shaman’s incense and the doctor’s decoction had poison and opium as Tishyaraksha had planned.

One day, eight months later after Tishyaraksha first visited her, Queen Padmavati died.

A year later, Tishyaraksha became the new queen. And Prince Kunala married 17-year old Kancanamala.

 

Tishyaraksha was always thinking of how to take revenge on Kunala. Luckily for her, four months later after she became the queen, a revolt occurred in Taxila, one of the largest cities in the ancient India near the present Islamabad in Pakistan. It was more than 1600 kilometers from the capital city of Pataliputra to Taxila.

 

 

MIRACLE TEARS　part 4

 

  King Ashoka wondered which general he should send to Taxila to subdue the riot. General Pshadalman was an experienced soldier and clever in planning strategies, but he was over 57, too old for the job, while general Plihasbati was young and brave, and had accomplished brilliant results in the Battle of Kalinga, but he was 23, too young for the task.

One night when the king was talking with Queen Tishyaraksha, he asked her which general he should send.

“I am sorry, since I am a woman, I am not allowed to talk about politics,” she said.

“I know, but this is between husband and wife. You don’t have to obey the regulation. Besides, you are clever. I have a high opinion of you. So, tell me who I should send to Taxila,” the king said.

“Then, with your permission, let me tell you my opinion. To tell you the truth, I think neither general is suitable for the job. Both of them are excellent generals, but Taxila is a strategically important city. The king of Bactria to the west of Taxila is threatening the city. Furthermore, those generals might betray you. So, you should send a reliable general. Not that either of them will betray you, but you cannot be too careful. In my opinion, you should send Prince Kunala. He is your blood relative. No other man is more reliable than he. He is wise and brave. He is the most suitable for the position,” she said.

“But he is only 20 years old,” the king said.

“I know, but he is as considerate and prudent as a mature man. Besides, you yourself were only 16 when you were sent to fight in the Battle of Kalinga,” she said.

The king was surprised at her memory and clever suggestion. She was right. The surrounding peoples such as Scythians, Greeks, and Bactrians are trying to use every opportunity to invade Taxila. Sending the prince was an undreamed-of idea.

“That’s a good suggestion. I’ll take it,” he said. “Tomorrow morning I’ll order him.”

Tishyaraksha smiled in her heart. Her dream of revenge had at last come true. Once he was dispatched, he would not be able to come back to the court, for there had been so many riots that any general would have no time to rest. He might probably be killed while fighting the rioters.

The next morning Prince Kunala visited the king and queen to greet them.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Kunala said.

“Yes, I had a good night’s sleep,” responded the king. “Today, I have an order for you. As you may know, Kunala, a revolt occurred in Taxila. It is the place my grandfather conquered. It is strategically a crucial spot to defend against enemies. If I should lose the city, I can’t face my ancestors in the next world. So, listen, I appoint you to the post of the general of Taxila. Go and subdue the riot,” Ashoka said.

Kunala knew that his father had fought the Battle of Kalinga at the age of 16. He wanted to win fame on the battlefield like his father.

“I am honored to accept your order. I will do my best to meet your expectation,” Kunala said.

“Good. Incidentally, I will send mandates to you for further commands as needed. The mail shall be sealed with the wax imprinted with my teeth mark. If you receive my mail, check the mark and determine the authenticity.”

The king handed the prince the sample of his teeth mark.

“And you may take Princess Kancanamala with you,” the king said.

“I appreciate your kind concern.”

A week later, the farewell banquet was held in the great hall. The king and queen sat in the thrones. Surrounding them sat concubines, generals, ministers, chamberlains, and maids of honor. There were dances and songs. When the banquet advanced, the king stood up.

“Listen. Everyone. Tomorrow, the prince will go to Taxila. I believe he will successfully bring the riot under control. Tonight, I want make a request of them. As you all know, the prince is a good harp player and the princess a good singer. I would like them to perform some music.”

Everybody in the hall gave a great applause. Their harmonious music was well known among them.

“It is our honor to play the music for you,” the prince said.

He put the harp on his lap and began to strum the instrument. The princess began to sing accompanying its sound:

MIRACLE TEARS　part 5

 

Illuminated by the moon light

The lotus flowers gleam faintly

When I close my eyes

I remember your gentle smile

That warms my heart

The lotus flowers forever

 

Illuminated by Buddha’s aureole

The lotus flowers shine brightly

When my eyes are blind

I see your peaceful smile

That comforts my heart

The lotus flowers forever

 

The next morning, Prince Kunala and Princess Kancanamala left the capital of Pataliputra for Taxila, guarded by 1200 infantry soldiers, 800 cavalry men, 500 tankers, and 500 elephant soldiers.

First, they rowed upstream on the Ganges River for 100 kilometers and got off the boats at the port of Payzawat. The elephants were carried by special boats, but when they reached the port, their number was around 450, for some of them went crazy on the river and the boats sank. From Payzawat, they advanced northwest on the barren mountainous region for 500 kilometers looking at the Himalayan mountain range on the right side. They passed the north side of Delhi and marched 600 kilometers to northwest.

When they were within 10 kilometers of Taxila Castle, they saw a dust cloud rising high in the distance. Thinking the rioting army was approaching, the commander of the prince’s guard shouted, “Attention. The enemy is approaching. Get ready for battle!”

At the midst of the tense situation, a single horseman was seen trotting toward the prince’s army. He was holding a flag of King Ashoka high up in the air. The prince said, “Stay sharp. This may be a trap.”

The horseman approached the prince. The guards drew their swords. The man dismounted from the horse and stepped toward the prince and kneeled.

“Your Highness, Welcome to Taxila. I am Muhamanda. I have come here to welcome you to the castle. The army behind me is going to guard you,” he said.

“To welcome us? But isn’t it a trick?” the prince said.

“If you are in doubt, please bind me with a rope,” he said and offered his hands.

“All right, I believe you. Thank you for the trouble,” the prince responded.

“The honor is on my side,” the soldier said.

“So the riot has been controlled, hasn’t it?” Kunala said.

“We kicked out the governor about a month ago.”

“You mean the riot was successful?” the prince said bracing himself up.

“Yes, but don’t misunderstand me. The riot was raged against the corrupt ex-governer, not against you. The people of Taxila know you are the prince of the  great King Ashoka. We all respect the king. We have no intention to revolt against you. The Taxila people are all waiting for your arrival.”

“I see. Then why is there an army behind you? They look like ready to fight.”

“They are to guard you,” he said.

“Against who?” the prince said.

“Against the Bactria army. Bactria has recently been threatening the city of Taxila. They may attack us at any time.”

“Oh, I see. Then let me hear about this Bactria in detail in the castle,” the prince said.

When the prince’s army was approaching the castle, a lot of people standing along the road shouted, “Hurrah Prince Kunala! Hurrha King Ashoka!”

 

MIRACLE TEARS part 6

 

Three months later, Queen Tishyaraksha had a boy baby. The king was very pleased. The baby was a proof that he was still energetic though he was 63 years old. The baby was named Cheval. Some of the concubines and maids of honor were suspicious that Cheval was the king’s son.

The king and the former Queen Padmavati had three sons. Kunala’s elder brother, Prince Jalauka was the governor of Ujain in the upstream area of the Ganges River, but he was wounded in the Battle of Kalinga and died caused by the wound. Kunala’s younger brother, Prince Maheda was the governor of Ceylon but died of disease. Therefore, Kunala was the only heir to King Ashoka.

Now that Queen Tishyaraksha had a son, Prince Kunala was not an object of hatred but an obstacle to eliminate. If Kunala should die or crippled, Cheval would be the heir to the throne. She heard that the riot in Taxila had been controlled and that Prince Kunala still remained in Taxila to defend against Bactrian army. If Kunala should make peace with Bactria, he would come back to the capital. She had to conspire his ruin while he was in Taxila.

One night the king visited the queen’s palace to spend the night with her. The queen thought the time for conspiracy had come.

“Your Highness, I’ve recently procured very rare liquor. You’ve visited me at the right time,” the queen said smiling and ordered her maid named Linata to bring the liquor to the king.

“Please taste it, Your Highness,” the queen said pouring the liquor into a cup.

The king sipped some.

“Um, this is good. What’s this liquor?” the king said.

“It’s Mahasula. It’s made of mango wine mixed with honey,” the queen said.

“That’s why it’s so sweet,” the king said.

“It is said that the noble men of the Sakya tribe, such as Buddha’s father, used to drink this. Please help yourself to another vessel. Think of yourself as Buddha’s father,” the queen said pouring another cup.

“Ah, that’s good. I am Buddha’s father. It’s amusing,” the king said joyfully.

The king soon drank several cups.

Tishyaraksha laughed in her heart. She thought, “Good. My son will surely become the next king.”

The queen had mixed some narcotic extracted from henbane seeds in the cup.

 

MIRACLE TEARS part 7

 

   Soon the king fell asleep. He did not wake up even when the queen slapped his cheek or talked into his ear.

   The queen took out a piece of paper with wax on it from her sleeve. She thought, “The time has come. My plan will surely ruin Kunala. He can never claim the throne.” Her eyes shone malevolently. The king was fast asleep with his mouth half open. The queen called a maid of honor named Litana.

“Litana, hold his head firmly,” the queen said.

While Litana was holding his head, Queen Tishyaraksha quietly put the paper into the king’s mouth. When the wax part was just between his upper teeth and lower teeth, the queen put her right hand on his jaw and closed it secretly. The king groaned. He moved his body, but he did not wake up. The queen looked at the teeth marks on the wax. It was not well marked. She took out another piece of paper with wax and pulled the king’s jaw down and did the same thing. Again the teeth marks were not satisfactory. When she did the same the third time, the result turned out perfect.

“Keep this a secret, Litana. Otherwise, you and your family shall die,” the queen threatened her.

“Yes, your highness. I promise,” Litana said.

   A week later, the queen summoned the king’s herald.

   “This is an imperial letter to Prince Kunala. Go to Taxila as soon as possible and hand it directly to him,” the queen said.

   The herald galloped atop his horse and reached Taxila after two weeks. He was led to the hall where the prince and princess sat surrounded by ministers and staff officers. The herald advanced briskly through them and sat before Prince Kunala and bowed. He handed the letter to the prince.

   The prince looked at it. The wax on it had teeth marks.

   “I’ll verify this. Fetch the authentic teeth marks,” the prince said to a chamberlain.

   Soon he brought a box and handed it to the prince. The prince took out the marked paper and checked the two documents carefully.

   “This is genuine. Read it aloud,” he said and handed the paper to the chamberlain.

   He began to read it:

“IMPERIAL ORDER.

From Great King Ashoka to Prince Kunala

I pray the peace of the world day and night. However, you do not understand me. You kicked out the previous governor and united with the rioters. Moreover, you are defaming me and aiming to overtake my....”

The chamberlain stopped reading and said, “Prince, I am sorry I can’t read any further. This is based on a misunderstanding.”

The prince told him to continue to read. The chamberlain unwillingly began to read it.

   “…and aiming to overtake my throne. You are a betrayer, an ungrateful son. Therefore, gouge your eyes and leave the castle.”

MIRACLE TEARS part 8

When the chamberlain finished reading the order, his face was distorted with agony, his body trembling. Those present looked at each other. They seemed as if they had been struck by thunder. The prince’s face became pale.

   “This must be a mistake,” she said, her lips trembling.

   “Your Highness, please don’t make a hasty decision,” a minister said. “Once you gouge your eyes, they are irreparable. I strongly recommend you to send someone to the king to confirm the content of the order.”

   “Let me take a horse quickly to the king,” a young general said.

   “The king has the wrong idea about you. You should dispatch him,” the princess said.

   All the ministers and generals begged Prince Kunala in unison to do as the princess said.

   “No, there is no need to do so,” Kunala said decisively. “The teeth mark is authentic. Therefore, the order is without doubt the king’s. I respect the king. It is all due to my lack of discretion that he thinks I am an ungrateful son. I have never protested against him. Sending someone to the king for confirmation is a double disgrace. Even if my eye sight is lost, I am alive. As long as I am alive, I have a chance to clear up the misunderstanding. Next time I meet the king, my eyes should be gouged out. Now, let the people gather at the public square. I will faithfully execute my father’s order.”

   Kunala said in a calm, detached tone as if he had been ready for the cruel punishment. Everyone thought that they were looking at a person who had freed himself from selfish desire. They thought they were looking at a Buddha. Now, nobody dared to oppose the prince. They kept silent, touched by his pure heart.

   There was a scaffold in the public square. Those who committed murder, adultery, robbery, or fraud were executed or whipped.

   Prince Kunala in white clothes sat on a chair on the carpeted scaffold. There were three executors: one on either side of the prince and one in front of him. In front of the scaffold stood the prince, the ministers, the generals, the high officials, and the maids of honors. There were also some doctors, who were equipped with hemostat, antiseptic, and bandages. A lot of commoners surrounded the scaffold.

 

MIRACLE TEARS part 9

“Why is the prince on the scaffold?” a commoner said.

“I hear the king gave an order to beat him with a stick,” another commoner said.

“No. He ordered to gouge out his eyes,” another said.

“To gouge out his eyes? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“What a cruel thing he does to a Buddha-like prince!”

“The king will receive Buddha’s punishment.”

“Sheee. Don’t say such a thing. You will be arrested.”

   The prince sat quietly in a zazen style. An executioner was standing at either side of the prince, and another executioner with a sword in his hand was standing in front of him

   “I am ready. Don’t hesitate to do your job. Gauge out my eyes right now,” the prince said calmly.

   “All right, then. Pardon me, your Highness,” the executioner said.

   Another executioner held the prince’s head tightly while the other held his body firmly. The prince’s eyes were closed. The prince’s wife, the minsters, the generals, and all the others watched the prince in a worried and tense manner. The executioner pulled out the sword out of the scabbard and pointed the tip at the prince’s right eye. The other two executioners looked away. The prince sat with perfect composure.

“Stop!” a commoner shouted.

“How cruel! Stop it,” another shouted.

“Go to hell!”

The spectators became noisy and restless.

The tip of the sword trembled. Time seemed to have stopped. One second, two seconds, three seconds….

Beads of perspiration stood on the executioner’s forehead. He suddenly dropped the sword and collapsed on the floor. All the commoners gave a scream of delight.

“Your Highness, I am sorry. I can’t, I cannot do it,” the executioner said in a trembling voice.

The prince opened his eyes.

“All right. I understand. You may retire now, thank you for the trouble.”

The prince asked the other two executioners to do the job instead of the first executioner, but they refused saying that they would be punished by Buddha. The prince then stood up and said in a loud voice to the people gathered there.

“Isn’t there anyone who will do the job among you?”

No one responded.

“How dare you pluck out his beautiful eyes?”

“His pure eyes are the proof that he is innocent.”

Since nobody answered his request, the prince again shouted to the public.

“If you successfully execute the job, I will reward you with this.”

He took out his golden bracelet and showed it to them.

A long quiet moment passed.

“I will do it, sir,” a Shudra, a member of the lowest class, said and walked to the scaffold.

“Good, thank you. And what is your name?” the prince said to the vile man.

“It’s Anan, sir,” the man said.

“Oh, your name is the same with one of the Buddha’s top disciples, isn’t it?”

“Oh? I don’t know him,”

“He is Ananda, one of the most famous Buddhist priests. I am lucky to have my eyes plucked out by you named Anan. Here, take this bracelet.”

“No, I don’t want it. Actually, I don’t want to harm your eyes, but since you earnestly ask us to do so, I thought I could be of any help to meet your request.”

“I see. You understand me well.”

“No, it’s impossible to understand you, but I can fulfill your wishes well because my job is to butcher cattle. I am accustomed to using knives. I think I am suitable for the job.”

The commoners, unable to hear the conversation between the prince and the Shudra, hooted.

“Shame on you.”

“A betrayer!”

“A butcher. You’re a beast.”

“All right, then,” the prince said. “Take the sword, Anan. And I have an idea. After you have plucked one of my eyes, put it on my palm. I want to look at it carefully,”

“OK. Then, get ready, sir”

 

MIRACLE TEARS part 10

The Shudra held the sword in his hand and thrust it into the prince’s left eye. He rotated it around it and pulled the bloodstained eyeball with his fingers. The blood sprayed staining his face. The prince pressed his left hand on his empty eye socket tightly. Blood oozed between his hand and his eye socket and dripped onto the floor.

   The Shudara put the eyeball on the prince’s right hand. The prince held his hand in front of his right eye and looked at it.

   “Ummm, this was my eye just a second ago. It’s strange. It cannot see. It is just like a branch cut off the trunk. It has nothing to do but wither. Or it is just like a man separated from Buddha. He has nothing to do but to go to hell. I pity him.”

   Prince Kunala then ordered the Shudra to gouge out his right eye, too. Some spectators looked away: others closed their eyes. Everyone uttered grievous cries. Both of his eyes were now plucked out. The scene was like the inferno. The prince crouched pressing his hands against his eyes. His face, hands, arms, and clothes were all bloodstained. The doctors hurriedly climbed onto the scaffold and worked hard to stop the bleeding with hemostatic agent and bandages.

   The herald, seeing all the details of the tragic incident, left Taxila riding a horse, and sped to the capital city of Pataliputra. When he reported to Queen Tishyaraksha what he saw, the queen’s face beamed for a second. She bit back laughter. She thought, “You deserve what you’ve done to me. Now my son will surely inherit the throne.”

   The queen thanked the herald and bestowed a reward. Litana brought some mango wine.

   “My faithful herald, I thank you very much. I have prepared a little feast for you. Here is some wine. Let me pour some in your cup,” the queen said.

   She filled both his cup and her cup.

   “Let’s toast the king. Cheers!” she said and drank the wine in one gulp.

   “Cheers!” the herald said, and emptied his cup, too. Suddenly his face turned pale; his lips trembled; and his eyes were bloodshot. He extended his arm in the air and fell to his death. The queen had taken an antidote for the poison.

MIRACLE TEARS part 11

   One month passed since Prince Kunala and Princess Kancanamala left Taxila castle. They did not look like a prince and a princess because they wore ragged clothes. Their hair was not trimmed. They looked thin and worn like a starving beggar. The prince had a harp, and the princess had the king’s message. They were walking to the capital city of Pataliputra about 1200 kilometers away.

   It was May. The temperature in the northern part of India reached more than 40 degrees Celsius, and it dropped to 20 degrees at night. Also since it was a dry season, it rarely rained. The prince and the princess got up early in the morning and began to walk. During the day time when the heat was severe, they sheltered in tree shades, caves, and Buddha temples. They resumed walking in the evening and walked till late at night. The walked and walked along the endless dry barren road with the bold mountains on their left hand.

   When they came to a village or a town, they stood at the street corner and performed the music. The prince sang in accompaniment of the prince’s harp. Some passers stopped to listen to the music.

“Poor thing! They are so young.”

“Look, the man is blind.”

“They must have a reason for doing such a thing.”

They offered the couple some money or food.

A month later, they reached Delhi, a large city in the central part of India, situated 400 kilometers southeast of Taxila. The Ganges River ran to the north side of the city. Walking along the river for 800 kilometers would take them to the capital city of Pataliputra.

Two months later, in September, the princess, who had been leading the prince by the hand, stopped. She saw a castle wall ahead. It was the wall that surrounded the capital city of Pataliputra.

“My dear, I can see our castle ahead,” she said.

“Oh, at last,” he said.

“Yes, we’ve reached it at long last.”

The princess eyes were moved to tears. Her husband looked like a beggar even though he was a prince.

“Then I can apologize to my father for being an ungrateful son soon,” he said.

The prince’s innocent pure words moved her. He must have learned Buddha’s teaching in his boyhood, she thought.

Part 12

The teaching or dharma was: be obedient to your parents; respect the aged; listen to your servants; do good to others; make offerings to monks; and seek after truth.

   Even though Kunala lost sight, he began to feel the sound and spirit around him and see into a person’s heart.

“Are you crying, my dear?” Kunala said to his wife.

“Yes. I can’t stop shedding tears when I see you in such ragged clothes.”

“Don’t cry. Men are not to be measured by their appearance.”

“I know, but…”

“Eyesight is, in a way, inconvenient, isn’t it? It deprives you of right judgment.”

   Wiping tears, Princess Kancanamala looked at her husband. His eyes were wrapped up in a bandage that went around his head. This man did not lament over his blindness. What a perseverant man he was, she thought.

   The sun began to set. The dark sky looked threatening. The prince and the princess passed through the castle wall and approached the castle. It was surrounded by a moat.

   “Are we at the castle gate? The moat smells.”

   “Yes. We are standing near the main gate.”

   It was an old familiar gate for them. They had passed through it hundreds of times.

   It began to rain. Kunala, led by his wife, came to the gate. Two gatekeepers were standing there, one a young man and the other an old man. The princess walked up to them.

   “Listen. Our clothes are ragged, but this is Prince Kunala of our kingdom and I am Prince Kancanamala. So, open the gate.”

   The gatekeepers were stunned and looked at each other.

   “Hey, bitch, are you crazy? What a joke!” the young gatekeeper said.

   “The prince is now in Taxila. Never make such a bad joke,” the old one said.

   “We’ve just returned from Taxila,” the prince said taking a step closer to them.

It began to rain hard.

   “Don’t be stupid, beggar. Go away before you are beaten,” the young one said.

   “Let me see the King. He will understand me. Call the grand chamberlain,” the prince said.

   “The grand chamberlain? Don’t be genteel,” the young one pushed the prince’s chest with the end of his guard stick.

   It was raining hard and the wind began to blow.

   The princess pulled the prince’s sleeve and said.

   “Let’s come back again.”

   The prince did not give up, but said to the gatekeepers.

   “We’ll stand here till the grand chamberlain comes here. Tell him so.”

   The prince and the princess stood in the driving rain. The branches of the trees on the moat bank bent. Leaves were torn off the trees. The surface of the water ruffled. The prince held the harp in one arm and hugged his wife with the other. They were soaked to the skin.

   The old gatekeeper felt sorry for the princess standing in the heavy rain. He had lost his daughter who was about the same age. He said a few words to the young gatekeeper, who soon consented to him.

“Hey, you. We’ll let you in. Take shelter at the elephant stables,” the old man said.

The prince thought it humiliating to rest at the stable but on second thought he might have a chance to meet his father.

They were led to the stable and lay down on the wet straw at the corner. The elephants smelt bad, but soon they fell asleep with their arms wrapped around each other.

Just around that time a banquet was being held to commemorate the second birthday of Prince Cheval in the grand hall. Golden candleholders were all over the hall, some hung from the ceiling and others on the tables. Surrounding the throne sat ministers, generals, chamberlains, and maids of honor. On the table were various wine and juice; spiced meat, chicken, fish; rice and wheat cakes; a variety of fruit such as grapes, bananas, and pomegranates. Dances and music were performed one after another. Minsters and courtiers drank, ate, and talked merrily.

King Ashoka told Queen Tishyaraksha that he would go out to refresh himself because he had drunk too much. He went out the hall followed by chamberlains. The rain had stopped.

When he was strolling through the garden relieved from the noise of the banquet, the moon appeared from the rift in the clouds. It was a quarter moon. He climbed the watchtower and looked at the moon threading quietly through the break of the clouds, when he remembered the dream he dreamed the previous night. He saw his son bleeding from his eyes. “What has become of him? I haven’t heard from him for the last two months,” he wondered. He felt uneasy.  To be continued

Part 13

The prince and the princess awoke after a short deep sleep. They looked at the beautiful moon, too. It was quiet. The rain had stopped and the air was clear. Looking at the moon, the prince began to play the harp and the princess sang to its accompaniment:

 

Illuminated by the moon light

The lotus flowers gleam faintly

When I close my eyes

I remember your gentle smile

That warms my heart

The lotus flowers forever

 

The beautiful song resonated through the quiet night. It reached the king’s ear.

“What beautiful music! I think I’ve heard the song before, but…” the king wondered.

 

Illuminated by Buddha’s aureole

The lotus flowers shine brightly

When my eyes are blind

I see your peaceful smile

That comforts my heart

The lotus flowers forever

 

“Listen,” the king said to the chief chamberlain. “Do you hear the song? Tell the musicians to come to the court and sing,”

The king returned to the banquet. They were still making merry.

“How do you feel now?” the queen said to the king.

“Much better now thanks to the fresh air. By the way, I heard a beautiful song when I was standing in the watchtower. I’ve invited the musicians to the banquet,” the king said.

After a while, the chamberlain came to the room followed by the prince and the princess.

“Welcome. Come closer,” the king said.

Prince Kunala nearly uttered, “Father, I am Kunala!” but he thought it imprudent to do such a thing in front of all the ministers and courtiers and that he would wait until the chance to reveal himself came.

The prince and the princess knelt to the king politely.

The queen, the ministers, and the courtiers all frowned at the poorly clad gaunt beggars. The young man looked blind. His head was swathed in dingy bandage.

   “Quiet, everyone,” the king said. “The musicians will add to the enjoyment of the banquet. Listen.”

   He turned to the young couple and said, “Let us hear your music.”

   The prince began to perform the harp remembering the day when he played it at the farewell party two years ago. The princess began to sing. The sound of the strings and the accompanying song resounded in the hall. It was so beautiful that everyone was fascinated.

   After the performance, the listeners erupted into cheers and applause. The king said to the prince.

   “That was outstanding. I enjoyed it very much. By the way, what is your name?”  

MIRACLE TEARS part 14

“I am your son Kunala. This is Princess Kancanamala,” the prince said, taking off his eye bandage. Suddenly the queen’s face twitched.

   The king stood up from the throne as if struck by a thunderbolt, ran up to Kunala, and stared at him.

   “Yes, you are Kunala,” the king said and held his son’s face with his hands. “Your eyes. What on earth has happened to them?”

   “I obeyed your order and gouged them out,” the prince said.

   “My order? Did it say that?”

   “Yes, it did.”

   The princess took out the king’s order from the pocket of her clothes and handed it to the king, who read it through.

   “I’ve never issued such an order,” the king said.

   “But the teeth marks were yours,” the prince said.

   “Someone must have taken my teeth marks..., while I was sleeping.”

   The king looked around with suspicious eyes. His eyes stopped at the queen, who was trying to avoid them.

   “Tishyaraksha, did you do this?”

   “Why me? The prince is as dear as my own son. How could I hurt my son?”

   “But you are the only person that can enter my room without my permission.”

   “This is a scheme. Someone has trapped me,” the queen said desperately with trembling hands.

   The king and the queen looked at each other. Silence followed.

   Suddenly, a woman from among the courtiers rushed to the king. It was Litana. She said in a bitter voice.

   “Pardon me, your Highness. I did it. I didn’t know the prince would gouge out his eyes. The queen ordered….”

   “Shut up,” the queen’s high-pitched voice interrupted her.

   “I won’t. The queen ordered me to help her to take your teeth marks while you were sleeping.”

   “Are you mad? What an absurd thing to say!” the queen said in a frantic voice.

   “This is not absurd. I am serious. She is a devil. She poisoned Queen Padmavati. She poisoned the herald. I’ve kept silence for fear of her punishment. But I can’t stand any more to see the pitiful prince. Please forgive me, Prince. I will atone for what I’ve done by killing myself.”

   Litana rushed at one of the marble pillars and crashed her head against it, bleeding from her forehead.

   “Please…forgive me …Prince…” she uttered her last words.

   “Arrest the queen,” the king ordered. He crushed his order in his fist. She was immediately arrested and dragged to the king.

   “How dare you gouged out my son’s eyes? I’ll pluck out your eyes, cut your tongue and ears, and tear you limb from limb. Yet, that’s not enough.”

   The king was furious. Fangs grew, his eyes becane bloodshot. He threw flames of anger from his mouth.

   The courtiers were all frozen and shut their mouths.

   After a moment, Prince Kunala said gently breaking the ice.

MIRACLE TEARS part 15

   “Father, please forgive my mother. It is all my fault that things have come to this. Thanks to my blindness, I can see things better.”

   The queen could not believe what she had just heard. “He has said ‘my mother.’ What a good man he is!” the queen thought.

   “No, I won’t forgive her. Execute her immediately,” the king shouted.

   The queen’s eyes were gouged out. She was confined in a barn with Prince Cheval, and it was set on fire and was soon engulfed in flames. Agonizing shrill cries were heard in the flame.

   “Your Highness! Please forgive me!”

   All the ministers and courtiers were horrified to hear her scream. Decades before, the king had killed his 99 brothers and 500 political rivals when his father, King Bindusara, had died. Furthermore, he had massacred more than 100,000 prisoners. Later, however, he repented his act of brutality and converted to Buddhism. Since then he devoted his life to Buddha. Ahimsa (non-killing) was his motto. All the vassals believed that the king had become a merciful person, but his cruelty had not changed at all.

   After the queen’s death, the king’s rage abated as time went by, but his grief over his son’s blindness increased day after day.

“Without eyesight he cannot rule the kingdom as the fourth king of the Maurya Dynasty,” he lamented. Even with his power he could not do anything about the loss of  his son's eyesight. However, he thought that Buddha might grant his wish if he pleaded.

   One day King Ashoka visited Linden Temple with Kunala, and met with Great Arhat monk.

   “Great Arhat, could you cure my son’s eyes with Buddha’s mercy?” he said.

   The monk looked at the blind prince. He sat quietly and looked gentle and pure-hearted.

   “I see,” the monk said. “I don’t know whether Buddha will grant your wish or not, but I will pray to Buddha for help. I will give a sermon tomorrow. Please visit me again.”

   Bulletin boards were put up in front of the temple and everywhere in the city from squares to street corners to market places. The board read:

   “Sermon is to be given in Linden Temple at noon tomorrow. Those who are interested, visit the temple with a bowl. It will be used to receive your tears you may shed while listening to the sermon.”  
 

MIRACLE TEARS  The last part

The next day about 1,000 people, young and old, men and women, gathered in the temple and sat body to body in the hall. The king, the prince, and the princess sat by the side of the Buddha statue.

At noon, Great Arhat monk appeared and said:

“Thank you for coming. You are all welcome. Now, I am going to give you a sermon about the relationship between cause and effect in life. If you shed tears during my talk, please catch them with the bowl you’ve brought.”

He looked at the crowd from left to right, cleared his throat, and began to talk. He talked about twelve good omens and twelve bad omens in life in regard to love and hatred; vanity and pride; and life and death. While he was preaching, some of the people began to weep. And at the end of his talk, everyone was wailing, with their bowls held under their eyes.

After the sermon, Great Arhat collected all the tears in a golden bowl.

“Thank you for listening,” the monk said. “What I’ve just talked about is the ultimate principle of Buddhism. If my sermon were wrong, Buddha would not listen to my wish, but if it were right, He would fulfill my wish. He will recover the prince’s eyesight if his eyes were washed with the tears.”

The monk took up the golden bowl and handed it to the princess. She scooped the tears with her hands and washed the prince’s eyes. And, miraculously, his eyesight was recovered.

“I can see, I can see,” the prince said.

“It’s a miracle!” the king exclaimed.

The princess took the prince’s hands, looked at his eyes, and said, “My dear husband….” She couldn’t say any more. She just looked at his eyes with her eyes blurred with tears. Prince Kunala held her in his arms tightly.

“My sweet wife, thank you for all the troubles you have undergone. You shall never repeat them.”

The prince burst into tears in his bosom.

Later that year, King Ashoka built 8,400 stupas in his kingdom. When he died at the age of 72 in B.C. 232, Kunala succeeded the throne as the fourth king of the Maurya Empire. He ruled the kingdom based on Buddhism. He was respected and loved. He was able to see things well thanks to the recovered eyesight and the eyesight he had acquired when he was blind.

The end