Sasa Jataka

Sasa Jataka

Long ago, in a time when the world was young and the stars seemed closer to the earth, there lived a magnificent Bodhisatta in the form of a hare. This was no ordinary hare; his fur was the color of moonlight, his eyes sparkled like twin sapphires, and his heart was filled with an boundless compassion that radiated from him like warmth from a hearth. He lived in a serene forest bordering a small village, where he was known and loved by all the animals for his gentle nature and his wise counsel.

The Bodhisatta hare was not alone in his idyllic existence. He shared his forest home with three companions: a monkey, whose agility was matched only by his mischievous spirit; a jackal, whose cunning was often used for his own benefit; and an otter, whose life revolved around the cool, clear river that flowed through their domain. Though their natures differed greatly, they lived in harmony, respecting each other's ways, their friendship a testament to the diverse beauty of the wild.

One day, the king of the gods, Sakka, disguised himself as a mendicant and descended to earth. He wanted to test the virtue and generosity of beings, to see if true compassion still existed in the world. He wandered through the forest, his guise humble, his heart seeking a genuine act of selfless giving. He approached the otter first, who was busy catching fish by the riverbank. 'O charitable one,' the mendicant called out, 'I am hungry and have traveled far. Do you have any food to share?' The otter, seeing the mendicant's apparent need, immediately offered him the plumpest fish he had caught that morning, saying, 'Take this, good sir. It is all I have, but I offer it with a willing heart.'

The mendicant accepted the fish, thanked the otter, and continued his journey. He then encountered the monkey, who was swinging playfully from the branches of a large mango tree, its fruits ripe and sweet. 'O generous one,' the mendicant implored, 'I am famished. Could you spare some of your bounty?' The monkey, without a moment's hesitation, scurried down and gathered a generous pile of the ripest, juiciest mangoes. He presented them to the mendicant, saying, 'Please, eat your fill. May this nourishment bring you strength.'

The mendicant thanked the monkey and proceeded deeper into the forest. There, he found the Bodhisatta hare sitting peacefully beneath a shady banyan tree. The hare's luminous fur seemed to glow with an inner light. The mendicant, still in his disguise, approached and spoke, his voice tinged with feigned weariness, 'Venerable one, I am a traveler and a beggar. I have not eaten for days, and my strength is failing. Do you, by chance, have anything to offer me?'

The Bodhisatta hare looked at the mendicant with his kind, sapphire eyes. He felt a pang of sympathy for the man's apparent suffering. He knew that he himself possessed no food to give. He was a creature of the forest, sustained by grass and roots. Yet, he could not bear to refuse a plea for help. He thought deeply for a moment, his brow furrowed with contemplation. Then, a radiant smile spread across his face. He turned to the mendicant and said, 'O holy one, I have no food such as fish or fruit. However, I can offer my own body. If you wish, you may cook me and eat my flesh. It will sustain you and give you strength.'

The mendicant was taken aback by the hare's extraordinary offer. He had encountered generosity before, but nothing like this. He hesitated, his disguise faltering slightly as his divine nature began to show. 'Are you truly willing to give your life?' he asked, his voice filled with awe.

'Indeed,' replied the Bodhisatta hare, his voice calm and resolute. 'For what is the body but a temporary vessel? The true essence lies in the spirit of giving, in the compassion that flows from a pure heart. If my sacrifice can alleviate your suffering, it is a sacrifice gladly made.'

The mendicant, deeply moved, revealed his true form as Sakka, the king of the gods. He explained that he had come to test the hearts of beings, and that the hare's selfless act was the purest form of generosity he had ever witnessed. Sakka then carefully gathered some strands of the Bodhisatta hare's luminous fur and, with his divine power, inscribed the image of the hare onto the surface of the moon. He declared, 'From this day forth, all beings will see your noble sacrifice etched upon the moon. Your act of ultimate generosity shall be remembered for all time, a beacon of compassion for all worlds.'

And so it is that to this day, when the moon is full and bright, one can see the silhouette of the hare. It is a reminder of the Bodhisatta's boundless compassion, his willingness to offer his very being for the sake of another. The otter's fish, the monkey's mangoes, these were acts of kindness, but the hare's offering was the ultimate sacrifice, a testament to the highest form of generosity. The legend spread throughout the lands, inspiring countless beings to cultivate compassion and to understand that true giving comes from the heart, asking nothing in return.