Two Queens and the Flower Without Fragrance

The warm breeze from the royal palace in Shravasti swept past granite columns, carrying a faint scent of incense and the steady rhythm of small bells from the rooftop terrace. In the open hall, afternoon sunlight filtered through arched windows, illuminating rows where court ladies sat with solemn dignity. On this day, after the Buddha entrusted the dharma talk to Ananda, the gentle bhikkhu entered, his saffron robe brushing softly against the cool tiles. The two principal queens of King Prasenajit were present: Queen Mallika, often called Mali, and Lady Vasapa Ktiya, the mother of Prince Vidudabha, who would later bring great calamity upon the Shakya clan.

"Venerable Sir, I ask permission to enter the palace on behalf of the Buddha to teach," Ananda bowed his head, his voice humble yet clear. Thus began the regular sessions of dharma talks, repeated many times over.

Later, King Prasenajit no longer invited the Buddha frequently but assigned the task entirely to Ananda. After several teachings by the Buddha, he allowed other bhikkhus to continue. Although Ananda had not yet attained Arhatship, his affinity for teaching was profound; sometimes listeners achieved enlightenment while he himself had not. Before the Buddha entered nirvana, Ananda remained at the stage of Stream-Enterer, diligently fulfilling his duty. These lectures continued for some time. The two queens listened, but their attitudes differed fundamentally based on the mental habits they had accumulated previously.

Queen Mallika listened intently to every word. Her eyes brightened whenever she understood the meaning, her hands resting gently on her lap, fingers intertwined as if afraid to miss a single phrase. Lady Vasapa Ktiya, however, sat only because the king compelled her to learn. Inside, she felt no desire. Her eyes occasionally wandered toward the window where birds chirped in the garden, and her shoulders stiffened each time Ananda asked a question.

"Dear friend, please tell me, how should one practice so that words become peaceful?" Ananda asked Vasapa gently.

She struggled to answer just to get it over with, her voice strained. "Well... one must speak softly, without anger, to please the king."

Ananda nodded and turned to Mallika. She smiled, answering fully and fluently, then described how she applied these teachings with her attendants and subjects. Vasapa sighed quietly, looking down at the stone floor, her toes twitching slightly as if wanting to escape the room.

After many sessions, Ananda returned to the monastery, paid homage to the Buddha, and reported: "World-Honored One, Queen Mallika studies diligently, applies what she learns, and transforms her character toward those around her. But Lady Vasapa merely sits to pass the time. She does not practice, and her heart still harbors unresolvable hatred regarding Prince Vidudabha."

The Buddha looked on in silence, then spoke. Under the tree, the wind rustled the leaves like the breath of heaven and earth. "Like a beautiful flower that has color but no fragrance, well-spoken words without action are of no benefit. But like a flower that has both color and fragrance, well-spoken words accompanied by action bring peace and joy."

The crux of this story lies not in the verse itself, but in its consequences. Because Vasapa did not practice the Dharma, she could not dissolve the hatred within her son’s heart. As years passed, Prince Vidudabha grew up carrying that grudge, leading an army to massacre the Shakya clan, committing terrible karma. Meanwhile, Queen Mallika, by practicing the Buddha’s teachings, lived virtuously, advised the king to do good, and became a wise counselor. She helped King Prasenajit become an ideal ruler in his final years.

At that time, Ananda and the Sangha clearly saw: those who only speak without acting are like flowers without fragrance—pleasing to the eye but not sweetening the world. Mallika chose the path of practice, so her words carried the power of peace. From then on, in the palace of Shravasti, the court ladies aligned with Queen Mallika softened their attitudes, becoming gentle. Those following Vasapa kept their old ways until the storm of vengeance erupted, unstoppable by anyone.

In later years, whenever recounting this event, Ananda remembered that afternoon vividly. He recalled when the Buddha spoke the verse, the sunlight sliding long across the stone floor, revealing two types of students clearly: one flower with fragrance, and one flower with only color.

**The Meaning of the Story**

This tale shows that studying the Dharma is not for speaking eloquently or pleasing others, but for deep absorption and practice in daily life. A person who speaks refined truths but does not act is like a beautiful flower without fragrance—it brings no benefit. Only when words align with actions can we create peace and joy for ourselves and others, like a flower possessing both beauty and scent.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang