Buddhist Folk Tales E-Book

Kevin Walker

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 220

Beschreibung

Buddhist Folk Tales is a wonderful collection of ancient and modern stories from the Buddhist tradition. From short, snappy tales to longer narratives, they will entertain and tantalise the emotions. Laugh, sigh and cry at stories about previous lives, why the Monkey King wanted to be Master of the Universe, the grimace that comes with the phrase 'out of the mouths of babes', and ever-endearing mother love. This is a book to treasure, and read time and again.

Leseprobe

In a world where you can be anything, be kind.

Unknown

First published 2022

The History Press

97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,

Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Kevin Walker, 2022

The right of Kevin Walker, to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 0 7509 9980 9

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed and bound in Great Britain by TJ International Ltd.

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

CONTENTS

The Story so Far: An Introduction

1 Wild Strawberries

2 The Talkative Turtle

3 Maybe

4 A Favourite Tree

5 Muddied Water

6 The King and the Tortoise

7 The New Buddha

8 Fresh Breath

9 The Miser

10 Mother Love

11 The Worm

12 Choosing a Tree

13 The Need to Win

14 The Rich Man

15 Crossing the Desert

16 Grandma’s Blackie

17 The Wooden Bowl

18 The Golden Mallard

19 The Glorious Stag

20 East and West

21 The Noise the Hare Heard

22 Thief!

23 The Selfless Hare

24 The King of the Water Buffalo

25 The Seven Princes

26 The Tiger’s Whisker

27 The Mustard Seed

28 The Goblins and the Merchants

29 Three Friends

30 Carrying a Load

31 A Tail Tale

32 It Started with a Dream

33 One Grey Hair

34 The Missing Son

35 The Gardener and the Antelope

36 The King of the Monkeys

37 The Sacrifice

38 A Head and Tail Tale

39 The Honoured Guest

40 The Walking Stick – a Folk Tale for the Future

41 Crossing to the Other Side

Story Synopses

Thanks

References and Further Reading

THE STORY SO FAR: AN INTRODUCTION

Back in the early 1980s, I moved to a slightly different area of Yorkshire and, in my excursions to discover new delights, I came across a recently refurbished Victorian arcade. It was filled with enticing shops, a café, tattoo place and various independent businesses. One of the shops that caught my eye was a ‘One World Shop’. A large, bright and beautifully displayed window was filled with wonders: artefacts, pieces of art and furniture, and clothes, all ethically sourced from around the world – something quite new for the town.

Amongst the wonders was a marvellous, seated statue of Buddha. It was so serene and elegant, and made even more noticeable by the fact it was the purest white in colour. It was not expensive, but I had just moved to a new house, so I didn’t buy it. That was a dreadful mistake. I worried about it all week – why hadn’t I just bought it when I saw it?

Two weeks later I went back to the shop and … it was still there! I can remember the feeling of joy as the shopkeeper wrapped it in white tissue paper and placed it safely in a rough, cardboard box. I went home with my treasure and placed ‘him’ on the windowsill of the wide staircase. The first of many. Perhaps an unconventional introduction to Buddhism, but an important step in my interest in this most fascinating of belief systems.

Over the years since then, not only has my collection of images of the Buddha grown, but so has my knowledge of the concepts of his teachings. I have many books, have visited Buddhist sites in Britain and have travelled far and wide in the world to temples, monasteries and places of significance. I regularly attended weekly teaching and meditation sessions at an intriguing temple close by, as well as several retreats. My interest has helped me through some of the darkest times in my life and I even considered joining an order at one time. As an oral, performance storyteller, I developed an evening of Buddhist tales that I performed around the country, and some of these tales have now morphed into this collection of stories. I have written them not only during the difficult time of Covid, but also during a couple of personal health scares. At times I was in a deep state of inertia, as many were, and found that I could neither write nor paint, but as I became more accustomed to the situation, I started creating again, and I found researching and writing these stories uplifting and rewarding.

The stories in this collection, are, in the main, ancient. Most are taken from the Jataka tales – a huge collection of stories attributed to Buddha himself. They were originally written in Pali, an early language, and are a group of stories that tell of Buddha’s pre-lives before he was born as the Buddha we recognise today – in other words, before his ‘enlightenment’. They are regarded as folk tales, even though they are about such a venerated figure. This is mainly because they contain speaking animals, a little magic, journeys and decisions, morals to consider, and, of course, have been told, listened to, studied and used in teaching for over two and a half millennia. We do not know the authors of any of these stories and so I pay homage now to those wise and creative writers before me. I do not read Pali and therefore have used a collection of sources for the stories, which I have retold in my own style. I have listed these sources at the end of the book, and I thank all the translators and authors who put in the initial hard work for me. (I found Robert Chalmers’s 1895 edition of the tales (Cambridge: University Press) to be the most useful.)

The Jataka tales is a vast collection of stories – 547 in all. Back in 2007, I travelled to Sri Lanka on my own to visit some of the temples and sites on this Buddhist island. I was staggered by the beauty of the land and the kindness of the people I met, but also by the poverty and the injustices of the area. I spent some time in the centre of the country in the city of Kandy – a hotspot of temples. It was truly magnificent, an experience that will live with me forever. I stayed in a large Victorian hotel that had a faded and genteel style. There was a wonderful lake nearby that was great to walk around in the evening. Along its banks were beautiful buildings; some of them were schools with hordes of uniformed and excited children of all ages, others were private houses, and one was a famous book shop. All my guides said I must visit the shop. I found it and looked at the comprehensive collection of books on every aspect of Buddhism, but I had difficulty finding what I was looking for, and here my naivety shone.

I was looking for a book of children’s stories, stories I hoped to add to my storytelling in schools; I thought it was called ‘The Jakarta Tales’. I was on my own, so a little anxious because of the language and the currency. Fortunately, the shop owner spoke perfect English and listened whilst I described what I was looking for. ‘You want the whole collection?’ he asked. ‘If that is possible,’ I answered. He disappeared and after a while reappeared carrying a huge box packed tightly with a series of shiny, hardback books. I nearly passed out at the sight of them. Not only would they obviously cost a fortune but how would I continue my travels and then get them back on the plane? I think I kept my cool, extracted just one to leaf through and then, to my shame, said that I would think about it and return later in the week. I scuttled out of the shop. Not only had I been expecting a compendium of stories that would fit in one nice book, like Grimm’s fairy tales can sometimes do, but I had called them ‘The Jakarta tales’ instead of ‘The Jataka tales’, making sense of a new word in my very English way. I still go hot thinking about it.

The Jataka tales are, quite rightly, highly regarded in many Eastern countries. They are fun, scary, surprising, shocking, contemplative and educational, and, of course, over the centuries, the stories and their themes have spread to other areas, probably taken by merchants or armies who heard them being told on their travels. Some of Aesop’s tales bear a striking resemblance to the tales, and it is thought that the troops of Alexander the Great’s army may have carried them back to Greece. Their themes arise in European fairy tales, too. Jataka 206 bears a resemblance to The Lion and the Mouse, 322 to Chicken Licken, 380 to Rumpelstiltskin and there are various tales that use the image of the golden goose. They are also found in tales from Persia and areas of the continent of Africa, as well as in Hinduism and Judaism.

I have included two stories in the collection that would be considered more sensitive than the usual folk tale: the first is ‘It Started with a Dream’ and the second is ‘The Walking Stick’. One is the account of the birth of Buddha and the other is about the death of the thirteenth Dalai Lama and the subsequent search for the current Dalai Lama. I do hope that you will forgive me placing these two stories amongst a group of folk tales. They are beautiful stories and do contain many of the elements of a folk tale. I included them both in my performance and they were well received. They are both also wonderful in demonstrating certain concepts in Buddhism. The birth of the Buddha is a lyrical story and contains spiritual images combined with historical comments. The story of the Dalai Lama is complicated and fascinating. Both stories deal with the idea of reincarnation and what happens after death, an important concept in Buddhism.

In Buddhism, one is encouraged to live a good life as set down in the precepts of whichever form of Buddhism one follows. Living a good life obviously is beneficial to this life, for everyone concerned, but it also has a ‘knock-on’ effect on our next life. Buddhists strive to reach Nirvana. This is a state of purity, nothingness and peace, where at last the shackles of this world are thrown off, a state much desired. Our current life has a huge effect on our next life and our ‘climb’ upwards towards Nirvana. The majority of Buddhists are not reincarnated as a new being when they die. Instead, this life influences the next life, as in cause and effect. The best explanation I was given was by using a snooker analogy. When a player hits the white ball towards, say, the blue ball, the blue ball will move forward in some way. That does not mean the white ball becomes the blue ball, but the way the white ball strikes the blue directly influences the way the blue ball moves onwards. A sharp, hard collision may make the blue ball crash forward or spin to one side if not hit centrally. If there is a gentle tap, the blue ball will also move on gently. And, of course, the aim of the game is to reach the pockets. Sometimes the blue ball will go straight in, sometimes just miss, perhaps causing difficulty for the next shot, and sometimes something drastic happens: it flies off the table. So, with life. It can be a long game to reach the end. Hopefully, the time will come, and one will reach that blessed state of Nirvana, or Enlightenment. Some holy individuals, who see that they have much more to carry out on this earth to help others, can choose to return to the earth as another human, rather than moving on to Nirvana; hence, reincarnation for some. The Blessed Dalai Lama has chosen this path, and when he dies, it means that within a short time – a few years – a child will be born who is the incarnate being of the former Dalai Lama and must be found by various, well-trodden means. Again, forgive my layman talk. But both ‘It Started with a Dream’ and ‘The Walking Stick’ involve elements of this.

The Jataka tales are mainly stories about animals and people that are the various past lives of Buddha as he made his way towards Enlightenment, and ‘It Started with a Dream’ is the beginning of the story of the last life of Buddha on earth. I have included only the story of his birth but, of course, his last life on earth is filled with remarkable stories of his long life and how he finally reached Enlightenment. I would encourage you to read further stories. In southern Spain, high in the hills above the commercial Costa Del Sol town of Benalmadena, there is the most beautiful, modern Stupa, a Buddhist temple, in the shape of a lotus. Inside, you find colourful murals of various aspects of the Buddha’s life painted high on the walls above you. It is truly a magical place to visit. It stands on a carved plateau, overlooking the town and the Mediterranean Sea, a huge stylised white and gold building, incongruous in many ways with the hotels and beach bars down below.

Another story I have included is an original tale that has arisen from much reading and discussion regarding the lost years of Jesus and a possible different ending from the established story. It is followed by research notes and conclusions. I offer it respectfully as an interesting line of thought to contemplate. I have never told this story; in fact, I have never before completed the story by putting all the ‘facts’ into story form, but during my performance, I offered forward all the lines of research and loosely suggested the narrative of the story, much to the interest of the listeners. I offer them now to you as a completed story to ruminate upon.

I have many happy memories of performing ‘It Started with a Dream’ around the country. I usually set up a backdrop of Buddhist artefacts and statues of Buddha, but one time I was flying in from Spain to perform and I could only bring one Buddha with me. So, well before the performance, I explained to the prospective audience my dilemma, and suggested, if they wish, they bring a Buddha image with them to put on the stage. I was amazed at how many were brought into the marquee in the hours before the performance was due to take place. Each one was beautifully ‘wrapped’, so precious, and many had the most beautiful stories attached to them – how old they were, someone special they had belonged to, some distant land they came from. I had, of course, promised to look after the images with great care. Before the performance, I began to arrange them, draping gorgeous cloths and trying to give each one prominence. As I was doing this, a young lad appeared by my side to watch. It was a festival and at the other side of the site was a circus skills training marquee, and children could borrow various items of circus equipment to practise with. Yes, you’ve guessed it – he had borrowed some of the said equipment! A long, colourful ribbon, on the end of a springy stick, to wave around and make beautiful shapes with. And now he began to make those beautiful shapes – well, actually, he was having difficulty controlling the long ribbon, and here he was, right next to those precious, loaned, images. I had to use every skill I had as an adult, ex-teacher and a performer with pre-performance nerves to gently persuade him to practise outside the marquee.

So, my journey with Buddhism carries onward.

And the elegant, white statue of Buddha I talked about? I now have a huge collection spread out through the house and garden and presently limit myself to what I collect. They all mean so much to me and each carries its own story and significance. When I moved away to live in Spain, I left one of my favourite wooden Buddhas, bought in Indonesia, with a great friend of mine, to ‘look after’ for me, a point of contact between us. She has kept it all these years, and it now sits in the home she lives in. She has a five-year-old grandson who comes to stay and when he is there he always adorns the Buddha with flowers, jewellery or other trinkets, and she sends me photos that make me smile. This elegant wooden Buddha is obviously having the same effect on Max.

The white Buddha sits on a shelf in my little garden studio, above where I work at my painting and writing. I often smile to myself when I think back to buying him, how I was so pleased that he was still there in the shop window when I returned. I never thought at the time that the likelihood was that he was not the original I had spotted two weeks before, that several could have been sold in that time and replaced from stock; he is a simple plaster of Paris image covered in gloss paint. He is faded now, almost cream, and bears the marks and knocks of many house moves, but he is still there, a constant in my life. A symbol of my Buddhist beliefs.

I hope you enjoy these tales. A collection of stories that mean a great deal to me. Stories of old Buddhism covering difficult topics; enduring Buddhism; and stories that have such meaning for now and the future.

1

WILD STRAWBERRIES

A story that is told in many cultures and derives from the Jataka collection.

There was a man hurtling down a jungle path, running as fast as he could, continually looking over his shoulder in desperation, for he was being pursued by a huge, fierce tiger, hungry for its next meal. Suddenly, his escape route was halted by a wide chasm that opened before him, the cliff sides falling steeply to a distant rocky floor. What was he to do? Gathering all his strength, he took a few steps backwards, ran forwards and leapt with all his might, hoping to land safely on the other side. But his leap was not far enough and, to his horror, he plummeted downwards, yelling as he fell. Fortunately, there was a strong vine growing out of one side of the chasm and he managed to grab it and stop his fall. And so there he was, heart thumping loudly, gasping for breath and gently swaying in the void. He looked up and saw the furious tiger growling down at him, and when he looked down, to his horror, he saw the tiger’s mate growling up at him. As he clung to the vine wondering what would happen next, he heard a strange noise. Just beyond his grip on the vine … a jungle mouse was gnawing through the precious vine.

He sighed a heavy sigh.

Looking straight ahead, he saw some wild strawberries growing on a ledge on the chasm’s cliff wall. He reached out and plucked the juiciest fruit he could reach and ate it. And in that moment, he thought it was the sweetest strawberry he had ever tasted.

2

THE TALKATIVE TURTLE

(JATAKA 215)

This is a story I have been telling for many years and it is a tale that again has been adopted by several cultures.

Amongst the ponds and inlets and squishy places, there lived a turtle. He lived by himself and enjoyed swimming in his water and climbing in and out to sunbathe on the bank. He also liked to talk. To anyone, and sometimes to no one. He loved endless chatter. He was an expert on the weather, the coolest water, the best places to feed, in fact anything you cared to mention. And I am afraid the other creatures of the waterways found him more than a little boring. As he walked or swam along, chuntering to himself, the other animals and birds would fling themselves into bushes, take flight or dive deep into the murky depths in order to avoid holding a conversation with him. He was quite lonely but made the best of life.

One day he was slowly making his way down the pathway, talking away to himself, when he heard wonderful chattering and laughter high above him in the trees. It was difficult for him to look up, so he backed away, then stretched his patterned neck and head skyward. High above him was a gathering flock of birds, each one twittering away in excitement.

‘Hello,’ shouted the turtle, ‘You all sound excited, what is happening?’

The birds gradually settled and looked around to see where the voice was coming from.

‘Oh, it’s you, Turtle,’ said one of them, and they all began to giggle, ready for one of his long conversations. Two birds flew down to him. It was a good day for them, so they were quite happy to chat – well, listen.

‘Today is the day we all take flight and fly to the other side of the world where the food is plentiful, and we can make our nests and raise our families.’

‘Oh, that does sound exciting,’ said the turtle, feeling sad that he couldn’t travel more like them. ‘I wish I could come with you,’ he added despondently.

The whole flock of birds squawked with laughter. ‘You, how could you come with us? You don’t have wings!’

The turtle pulled his head in a little, he felt embarrassed. But then, feeling braver, his head came out fully and he shouted, ‘Where there is a will, there is a way. Let me think!’

This time he pulled his head in fully, and in the dark shell, he scrunched up his eyes and thought hard. Suddenly, his head popped out, his eyes shining brightly: ‘I have it!’

All the birds went silent as they listened to his plan. ‘Yes, I have it. It’s simple really. I will find a stick and two of you strong birds can hold each end of the stick in your beaks, then I will hold on tight in the middle. You two, strong birds can then flap your wings and take off, taking me with you.’

‘But is your mouth strong enough to hold on?’ asked one bird. ‘More to the point, can you keep your mouth closed long enough, during the long flight?’ added another.

Again, all the birds laughed. They knew how much the turtle liked to talk and how difficult he would find it, not being able to chat whilst they travelled.

The turtle looked hurt. ‘Of course my jaws are strong enough, and I can promise you, I can be the quietest creature around the pond … when I care to be.’

All the birds shrugged. ‘Very well,’ they said, ‘but we cannot guarantee your safety, that has to be your job.’

The turtle looked around and saw a nice dry stick lying on the ground not far from him. He gave it a little wipe, and, taking a big breath, grasped the middle of the stick with his strong jaws. Two of the larger birds flew down and, just before grabbing the stick, one asked, ‘You ready?’

The turtle was just about to answer ‘yes’, with a long explanation as to why he was ready, when he realised it was a test, and he simply nodded his head instead. The two birds raised their eyebrows at him, but nevertheless, they took hold of the ends of the stick. With much flapping of wings, the two strong birds took off from the ground, with the turtle hanging between them. The other birds screeched loudly, took flight, and the flock began to circle the pond before heading off to the other side of the world … with their strange companion.

As they flew around in a large circle, there were two children watching them down on the ground. ‘Oh, look how wonderful the birds are, I bet they are flying to somewhere far away!’ shouted one of them, and the turtle shook with excitement at the thought.

‘But what is that in the middle? Is it a turtle?’ asked the other. ‘That can’t be a turtle flying with them?’

‘Oh yes, it is. How clever of the birds to carry a turtle like that! Fancy them thinking of an idea like that.’

The turtle gave a shudder of annoyance. How clever of them? It was my idea, not the birds’.

‘Have a wonderful journey you clever birds!’ both children shouted.

This was too much for the turtle. ‘It was my ideaaaaaaaaaaaa …!’

Amongst the ponds and inlets and squishy places, there lived a turtle. He lived by himself and enjoyed swimming in his water and climbing in and out to sunbathe on the bank. He also liked to talk, especially of the time he flew with the birds.

3

MAYBE

This short and well-known story is a delight. I am sure that you could continue its theme for a few more lines.

High up in the mountains, just below the snow line, there was a farmer who had worked in the fields all his life, making a good but simple life for him and his family. One day, his prize horse bolted away out of sight. When they heard the news, neighbouring farmers came to give their condolences. ‘What bad luck,’ they all said in various ways.

‘Maybe,’ said the old farmer.

Next morning, the horse had made his way home, bringing three wild horses with him. ‘How wonderful!’ the neighbours said.

‘Maybe,’ answered the farmer.