Kusa Jātaka

The Tale of the Excellent Kusa Grass

In the ancient kingdom of Kuru, on the banks of the sacred River Jumna, lived a king named Suppāraka. He was a ruler known for his righteousness and his deep respect for the Dharma. His queen, Mittavindā, was equally virtuous, known for her unwavering devotion and her compassionate heart.

One day, a severe drought afflicted the kingdom. The rains failed, the rivers dwindled, and the land became parched and barren. Crops withered, and famine threatened to decimate the population. The king and queen spared no effort in trying to alleviate the suffering of their people. They opened the royal granaries, dug wells, and organized relief efforts, but the drought persisted relentlessly.

During this time of hardship, Queen Mittavindā, who was pregnant, experienced a deep longing. She yearned for a particular type of grass, known as Kusa grass, which grew abundantly in a distant, fertile region. This grass, she believed, held a special purity and was associated with blessings and abundance. Her desire was not born of mere caprice, but from an intuitive understanding that this grass symbolized the very essence of what the kingdom lacked – life-giving sustenance and purity.

The king, seeing his queen’s profound yearning, immediately understood its significance. Despite the dangers and the immense distance, he vowed to fulfill her wish. He knew that the Kusa grass grew in a valley known for its fierce winds and treacherous terrain, guarded by wild beasts and prone to sudden storms. Yet, for the sake of his queen and the hope she represented, he was determined to undertake the perilous journey.

The king gathered a small, loyal retinue and set forth. They traveled for many days, facing scorching heat, scarce water, and the constant threat of predators. As they neared the valley, the winds grew stronger, howling like angry spirits, and the path became increasingly difficult. They encountered a fearsome tiger, its eyes burning with hunger, blocking their way.

The king, without a moment's hesitation, drew his sword. “I must pass!” he declared. “My mission is one of compassion and hope, not of aggression.” He then remembered the teachings of the Dharma and the importance of non-violence, even in the face of danger. Instead of attacking, he addressed the tiger with a calm and respectful voice.

“Noble beast,” the king said, “I seek passage not for conquest, but to gather the pure Kusa grass for my queen, who carries the future of our kingdom. Our land is suffering, and this grass symbolizes the hope for renewal and abundance. If you permit me to pass, you will be aiding in a noble cause.”

The tiger, surprised by the king’s courage and the sincerity in his voice, paused. It had encountered many humans, but none who spoke with such respect and clarity of purpose. The king’s unwavering resolve, his lack of fear despite the dire situation, and the purity of his intention resonated with the wild creature.

After a moment that seemed to stretch into an eternity, the tiger let out a low growl, not of aggression, but of acknowledgment, and stepped aside, allowing the king and his retinue to pass.

The king and his men ventured deeper into the valley, braving the harsh winds and navigating the treacherous landscape. They finally reached a serene clearing where the Kusa grass grew in abundance, its blades shimmering with a celestial dew, radiating an aura of purity and vitality.

With great reverence, the king and his men carefully gathered the finest Kusa grass, tying it into bundles with great care. They offered prayers of gratitude to the land and to the creatures that inhabited it.

Their return journey was still fraught with challenges, but the king’s heart was filled with the joy of accomplishment and the hope that this grass would bring relief to his suffering kingdom. When he finally arrived back at the palace, Queen Mittavindā, though weakened, greeted him with a radiant smile.

The king presented her with the Kusa grass. As she held it, a profound sense of peace and well-being washed over her. The grass seemed to emanate a gentle energy, a silent promise of renewal. It was said that the very presence of the Kusa grass began to subtly shift the atmosphere of the kingdom, dispelling the heavy aura of despair.

Shortly after the king's return, the heavens opened, and gentle, life-giving rains began to fall. The drought broke, and the land, once parched, began to revive. The rivers swelled, the crops sprouted anew, and the famine began to recede.

The people rejoiced, understanding that the breaking of the drought was a blessing, a sign of hope restored. They hailed King Suppāraka and Queen Mittavindā for their unwavering compassion and their enduring strength. The Kusa grass, carefully preserved, became a symbol of their kingdom’s resilience and the sacredness of life.

The Bodhisatta, in his past life as King Suppāraka, demonstrated that true leadership is not just about governance, but about courage, compassion, and the unwavering commitment to protect and uplift one's people, even in the face of immense personal risk. His journey for the Kusa grass was a testament to his boundless generosity and his deep understanding of the symbolic power of purity and hope.