Reimagining Jain Stories

Priya Shah & Rutwa Shah

Let’s Flip The Script.

In this piece, we rewrite your favorite Jain stories, but from the perspective of the side characters. Although we normally see the hero of our beloved stories go through journeys of self-discovery, seeing the same story from another angle can help us identify nuance, explore grey areas in the stories, and prompt us to ask questions that we may not have originally considered. Reading these stories is sure to be nostalgic, but with a twist!

Chandanbala

One day, while walking in a city called Kaushambi, merchant Dhanavah saw a girl who was being sold as a slave. When he looked at her sad eyes, he felt a deep sense of compassion. No one should have been treated like an object, and this girl in particular had caught his eye. He bought her, even though he knew it was wrong, but he had the ultimate goal of freeing her from slavery. He took her home and started to become curious about the girl. He asked her where she was from, and what happened to her, but the girl seemed meek, afraid, and didn’t answer any questions.

The merchant did not even know her name but welcomed her into his house. He introduced her to his wife, Moola. He explained that he did not know anything about her, but that he believed she should be treated like a daughter. Not knowing her original name, Moola and Dhanavah named her “Chandanbala,” as she would rub Chandan (sandalwood) on Dhanavah’s feet with respect.

Dhanavah keenly noticed that Chandanbala was taking on all the duties of being a daughter. She cooked, cleaned, and served the family. He was pleased by her and knew there was something special about her. On the other side, Moola was perplexed. At the time, it was odd for a merchant to bring home a seemingly random girl. In her mind, she started to have doubts about her husband’s true intentions. She grew jealous and angry of Chandanbala. At that time, and in the society they lived in, the value of a female was rudimentary — if it wasn’t in service as a wife or daughter, negative intentions were assumed.

One day, Moola saw Dhanavah lifting Chandanbala’s hair as it was coming in her way when she was rubbing Chandan on his feet. Instantly, Moola’s worst fears seemed to come true. She immediately made the judgement that Dhanavah wanted to use Chandanbala for her beauty. In her mind, the only option was to get rid of Chandanbala in order to cut the problem at its source, as it would have been disrespectful to approach Dhanavah directly.

One day, when Dhanavah left for a business trip, Moola decided to cut Chandanbala’s hair to hide her beauty, and she moved her into a distant room away from the main house. Out of paranoia, she chained Chandanbala’s feet so she would not leave.

Moola’s actions made her scary. When Dhanavah came back, he looked for Chandanbala everywhere and could not find her. He asked servants, but they were too afraid to reveal her location. Finally, one servant spoke up, and Dhanavah immediately went to offer Chandanbala food and find a blacksmith to cut the chains off her legs.

When he came back, he noticed that a revered ascetic, Lord Mahavir, was taking food and breaking his fast from Chandanbala. Moola and Dhanavah watched as Chandanbala’s hair instantly grew back, and her shackles were magically broken. They could not help but fold their hands at the sight, and Dhanavah knew that taking her in was a blessing. He learned that she was Princess Vasumati, and was originally sold as a slave after war broke out in her hometown and a soldier had found her. Dhanavah was shocked at hearing about Chandanbala’s unfortunate story, and became upset at Moola for the actions that she had taken out of her doubt and fear. Moola realized her mistake as well. Chandanbala eventually went back to the palace, and took Diksha (renunciation) and became the first Sadhvi (nun) under Mahavir Bhagwan.

Nuances from this perspective:

• It’s hard to sympathize with so many actions in this story — from slavery to the role of women, there are so many condemnable societal norms that it is difficult to see the underlying, timeless roots of this story.
• Dhanavah’s compassion seems to be the silver lining in this story. Although he partook in “buying” Chandanbala, it was for a good cause, which ultimately seems like a net positive action.
• Moola’s actions were cruel, but feelings of jealousy, paranoia, and doubt are universal. Surely, there are actions we have taken out of these ugly emotions, even though they may not be as cruel or extreme as Moola did. It may be hard to conceptualize her actions, since we do not understand the time and place this story takes place.

Aimutta Muni

Queen Shrimati sent her son, Aimutta, out to play one day. When he came back to the castle, she noticed that he was walking with a revered monk, Gautam Swami. She felt elated and packed food to give to him as he was out seeking alms. When she saw Gautam Swami, she paid her respects by bowing and saying “Mathhaen Vandami (My salutations to you).” She saw Gautam Swami and Aimutta talking and when Aimutta came back, he asked her if he could take Diksha.

The queen was first shocked upon hearing this. How could her six-year-old son want to leave her so soon? She was overcome with a strong attachment for her son, and initially wanted to say no out of her love for him.

However, she didn’t want to dismiss his desire — he was so young that being strict could turn him away from religion, faith, and the curiosity he had to learn. He was young and impressionable, and she wanted to know how much he understood before making a decision.

She came up with a series of questions to test his understanding of Diksha. She explained the life of monkhood would be without her or Aimutta’s father. She explained that he wouldn’t enjoy the riches of the castle, or the responsibility and duties of the kingdom. He wouldn’t be able to indulge in his favorite foods, and he would have to live through severe col and blistering heat. She explained that the monkhood lifestyle is one full of discipline, and that he would need to have enough physical strength to go on a Vihar or expedition.

Aimutta responded saying that the life of a monkhood is filled with short-term discomfort and suffering, but a wordly life is also filled with suffering everywhere. He said that if he could bear through a little discomfort for the sake of shedding karma and avoiding himsa (violence) that happens every day through a layman’s life, he would be filled with more purpose.

His answer was fair, so Queen Shrimati continued. She asked why he wanted to take Diksha so early. He had so much of his life left, the opportunity to do well in society, and serve his own family, so why now?

He told her that Gautam Swami had taught him that our Ayushya Karma (lifespan-determining karma) is already set, so life can end at any time. Why delay an opportunity? He explained that he knew he had a lot to learn and understand, but was sure he could take this step.

Upon hearing these answers, Aimutta’s mother was content and impressed, but still uncertain about the prospect of a six-year-old muni. Confident in her son’s curiosity and resolve, she gave him her blessing.

One day, some older monks were once walking with Balmuni Aimutta, when they passed by some children playing with sailboats in the water. The older monks watched as Aimutta had followed them and started to sail his belongings in the water. Immediately, they knew that there were many living creatures in the water. They told Balmuni Aimutta to stop and watched as he immediately bowed his head down and recited the Iriyävahiyam Sutra (Jain prayer to ask for forgiveness of hurting living beings) . They didn’t pay much attention to him after knowing that he had realized his mistake, but starting talking amongst themselves about the low level of maturity needed to be a monk, and Balmuni Aimutta’s childlike instinct to go play without thinking. They started having doubts about Balmuni Aimutta’s ability to continue on this path, and they also had a sense that they were better than him.

At Lord Mahavir’s sermon, the older monks were sitting together, and they saw Balmuni Aimutta walking towards the Kevalis. They thought that he was mistaken, and told him to sit with them. He was wrong to be sitting with the Kevalis. Upon hearing this, Lord Mahavir looked at the older monks and sternly told them that Balmuni Aimutta had actually repented so much at the water after playing with the sailboats that he had achieved Keval Gnan!

Upon hearing this, the older monks were humbled and impressed. They wondered how a state of mind could go from making a mistake that could kill millions of jivs to attaining supreme knowledge, and bowed down to Balmuni Aimutta with utmost respect.

Nuances from this perspective:

• The attachment between Queen Shrimati and Balmuni Aimutta is clear. It must have been difficult for Queen Shrimati to ask her son those questions, and selfless of her to give him a chance to answer. Often times, today, parents encourage their children to go on a pre-determined path, and it is hard to separate the immaturity and growing nature of a child with the child’s honest instincts.
• The older monks also had a hard time separating Aimutta, the child, and Balmuni Aimutta, a seeker of knowledge just like themselves. It is natural for anyone to have some ego about their knowledge and ability to learn, especially when it is in direct comparison with someone who is so much more different. We wondered if there was validity in the doubt of age — after all, it is difficult to ascertain that a child has the same fundamentals or has the life experience to develop core morals and values.