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Chapter Eight
The Jewelled Necklace
As he grew into his teens, Siddhartha came to find palace life stifling, so he began making excursions beyond the city limits to see what life
was like outside. He was always accompanied by Channa, his faithful attendant, and sometimes also by his friends or brothers. Channa was
responsible for Siddhartha’s horse carriage, and he and Siddhartha took turns holding the reins. As Siddhartha never used a whip, Channa
did not either.
Siddhartha visited every corner of the Sakya kingdom, from the rugged foothills of the Himalayan mountains in the north to the great
southern plains. The capital, Kapilavatthu, was located in the richest, most populated region of the lowlands. Compared with the
neighboring kingdoms of Kosala and Magadha, Sakya was quite small, but what it lacked in area it more than made up in its ideal location.
The Rohini and Banganga Rivers which began in the highlands, flowed down to irrigate its rich plains. They continued southwards and
joined the Hiranyavati River before emptying into the Ganga. Siddhartha loved to sit on the banks of the Banganga and watch the water
rush by.
The local villagers believed that the waters of the Banganga could wash away one’s bad karma, from both present and past lives, and so
they often submerged themselves in the water, even at near freezing temperatures. One day, while sitting along the riverbank with his
attendant, Siddhartha asked, “Channa, do you believe this river can wash away bad karma?”
“It must, your highness, otherwise why would so many people come here to wash themselves?”
Siddhartha smiled. “Well then, the shrimp, fish, and oysters who spend their entire lives in these waters must be the purest and most
virtuous beings of all!”
Channa replied, “Well, at least I can say that bathing in this river will wash away the dirt and dust from one’s body!”
Siddhartha laughed and patted Channa on the shoulder. “With that, I certainly agree.”
On another day, as he was returning to the palace, Siddhartha was surprised to see Yasodhara in a small, poor village, with one of her
maid servants, tending to the village children who were suffering from eye diseases, influenza, skin disorders, and other ailments. Yasodhara
was dressed simply, yet she appeared to be as a goddess who had appeared among the poor. Siddhartha was deeply moved to see the
daughter of a royal family placing her own comfort aside so that she could care for the destitute. She rinsed their infected eyes and skin,
dispensed medicine, and washed their soiled clothes.
“Princess, how long have you been doing this?” asked Siddhartha. “It is beautiful to see you here.”
Yasodhara looked up from washing a little girl’s arm. “For almost two years, your highness. But this is only the second time I have been
in this village.”
“I often stop here. The children know me well. Your work must give you a great feeling of satisfaction, princess.”
Yasodhara smiled without answering. She bent over to continue washing the girl’s arm. That day, Siddhartha had a chance to speak with
Yasodhara for a longer time. He was surprised to learn that she shared many of his own ideas. Yasodhara was not content to remain in her
lady’s quarters blindly obeying tradition. She, too, had studied the Vedas and secretly opposed society’s injustices. And like Siddhartha,
she did not feel truly happy being a privileged member of a wealthy, royal family. She loathed the power struggles among the courtiers and
even among the brahmans. She knew that as a woman she could not effect great social change, so she found ways to express her
convictions through charitable work. She hoped that her friends might see the value of this through her example.
Siddhartha was deeply moved to see Yasodhara caring for the destitute child.