The Traders of Seriva
Serivavanija Jataka (Jataka No. 3):
So that a disheartened bhikkhu would have no regrets
in the future, the Buddha told him this story at Savatthi to encourage
him to persevere. "If you give up your practice in this sublime teaching
which leads to Nibbana," the Buddha told him, "you will suffer
long, like the trader of Seriva who lost a golden bowl worth a hundred
thousand pieces."
When asked to explain, the Buddha told this story of the distant past:
Five long aeons ago, the Bodhisatta was an honest trader selling fancy
goods in the kingdom of Seriva. Sometimes he traveled with another trader
from the same kingdom, a greedy fellow, who handled the same wares.
One day the two of them crossed the Telavaha river to do business in the
bustling city of Andhapura. As usual, to avoid competing with each other,
they divided the city between them and began selling their goods from
door to door.
In that city there was a ramshackle mansion. Years before the family
had been rich merchants, but by the time of this story their fortunes
had dwindled to nothing, and all the men of the family had died. The sole
survivors were a girl and her grandmother, and these two earned their
living by working for hire.
That afternoon, while the greedy peddler was on his rounds, he came to
the door of that very house, crying, "Beads for sale! Beads for sale!"
When the young girl heard his cry, she begged, "Please buy me a
trinket, Grandmother."
"We're very poor, dear. There's not a cent in the house and I can't
think of anything to offer in exchange."
The girl suddenly remembered an old bowl. "Look!" she cried.
"Here's an old bowl. It's of no use to us. Let's try to trade it
for something nice."
What the little girl showed her grandmother was an old bowl which had
been used by the great merchant, the late head of the family. He had always
eaten his curries served from this beautiful, expensive bowl. After his
death it had been thrown among the pots and pans and forgotten. Since
it hadn't been used for a very long time, it was completely covered with
grime. The two women had no idea it was gold.
The old woman asked the trader to come in and sit down. She showed him
the bowl and said, "Sir, my granddaughter would like a trinket. Would
you be so kind as to take this bowl and give her something or other in
exchange?"
The peddler took the bowl in his hand and turned it over. Suspecting
its value, he scratched the back of it with a needle. After just one covert
look, he knew for certain the bowl was real gold.
He sat there frowning and thinking until his greed got the better of
him. At last he decided to try to get the bowl without giving the woman
anything whatever for it. Pretending to be angry, he growled, "Why
did you bring me this stupid bowl? It isn't worth half a cent!" He
threw the bowl to the floor, got up, and stalked out of the house in apparent
disgust.
Since it had been agreed between the two traders that the one might try
the streets which the other had already covered, the honest peddler came
later into that same street and appeared at the door of the house, crying,
"Beads for sale!"
Once again the young girl made the same request of her grandmother, and
the old woman replied, "My dear, the first peddler threw our bowl
on the ground and stormed out of the house. What have we got left to offer?"
"Oh, but that trader was nasty, Grandmother. This one looks and
sounds very kind. I think he will take it."
"All right, then. Call him in."
When the peddler came into the house, the two women gave him a seat and
shyly put the bowl into his hands. Immediately recognizing that the bowl
was gold, he said, "Mother, this bowl is worth a hundred thousand
pieces of silver. I'm sorry but I don't have that much money."
Astonished at his words, the old woman said, "Sir, another peddler
who came here a little while ago said that it was not worth half a cent.
He got angry, threw it on the floor, and went away. If it wasn't valuable
then, it must be because of your own goodness that the bowl has turned
into gold. Please take it, and just give us something or other for it.
We will be more than satisfied."
At that time the peddler had only five hundred pieces of silver and goods
worth another five hundred. He gave everything to the women, asking only
to keep his scales, his bag, and eight coins for his return fare. Of course,
they were happy to agree. After profuse thanks on both sides, the trader
hurried to the river with the golden bowl. He gave his eight coins to
the boatman and got into the boat.
Not long after he had left, the greedy peddler returned to the house,
giving the impression of having reluctantly reconsidered their offer.
He asked them to bring out their bowl, saying he would give them something
or other for it after all.
The old woman flew at him. "You scoundrel!" she cried. "You
told us that our golden bowl was not worth even half a cent. Lucky for
us, an honest trader came after you left and told us it was really worth
a hundred thousand pieces of silver. He gave us a thousand for it and
took it away, so you are too late!"
When the peddler heard this, an intense pain swept over him. "He
robbed me! He robbed me!" he cried. "He got my golden bowl worth
a hundred thousand!" He became hysterical and lost all control. Throwing
down his money and merchandise, he tore off his shirt, grabbed the beam
of his scales for a club, and ran to the riverside to catch the other
trader.
By the time he got to the river, the boat was already in midstream. He
shouted for the boat to return to shore, but the honest peddler, who had
already paid, calmly told the ferryman to continue on.
The frustrated trader could only stand there on the river-bank and watch
his rival escape with the bowl. The sight so infuriated him that a fierce
hate swelled up inside him. His heart grew hot, and blood gushed from
his mouth. Finally, his heart cracked like the mud at the bottom of a
pond dried up by the sun. So intense was the unreasoning hatred which
he developed against the other trader because of the golden bowl, that
he perished then and there.
The honest trader returned to Seriva, where he lived a full life spent
in charity and other good works, and passed away to fare according to
his deserts.
When the Buddha finished this story, he identified himself as the honest
trader, and Devadatta as the greedy trader. This was the beginning of
the implacable grudge which Devadatta held against the Bodhisatta through
innumerable lives.