The Two Ways of Learning of the Two Royal Consorts

The monsoon wind blew through the rows of columns in King Pasenadi's palace, carrying the fragrance of freshly bloomed white jasmine. That morning, golden sunlight streamed through the cracks of the doors, falling upon the deep red silks where two royal consorts sat solemnly on their mats. The sound of the bell rang out, announcing that Venerable Ananda was about to enter and give a dharma talk. The air was so still that one could hear even a falling leaf.

"Today, I will review the Buddha's teachings on compassion and letting go," Venerable Ananda began gently.

Queen Malika sat up straight, her eyes bright, her hands resting lightly on her knees. On the other side, the consort Vasapa — mother of Prince Virudhaka — kept her head lowered, her fingers busily twisting the hem of her robe, thinking to herself: "The king simply ordered me to study. I'll just sit through it."

It so happened that King Pasenadi had invited the Buddha and the monks to the palace to teach the Dharma to his consorts and maidservants. After a few visits, the Buddha asked Venerable Ananda to go in his place. As time passed, the two royal consorts gradually revealed two very different attitudes. Queen Malika had been attentive from the very beginning. Whenever Venerable Ananda tested her, she answered fully and fluently, and then immediately applied what she had learned to her life: she taught the maidservants gentleness, and advised the king to work for the benefit of his people. Vasapa, on the other hand, being forced to study, merely tried to sit through each session. Her heart was neither willing nor attentive. Each time she was tested, she recited only to get it over with, without ever putting anything into practice.

One day, after a teaching session, Venerable Ananda reviewed an old lesson with Vasapa. She glanced toward the door, restlessly flicking her fingers against her thigh.

"Venerable sir, may I simply recite it back? I already know the teachings by heart."

Venerable Ananda looked at her with eyes full of compassion, yet he could not hide his concern. He sighed softly:

"Sister, words that do not seep into one's life are like flowers without fragrance. You must renew yourself through practice."

Vasapa only nodded to end the matter, her heart unmoved. At that very moment, Queen Malika approached from across the room, her face radiant:

"Venerable sir, I have persuaded three of the maidservants to stop speaking harshly to one another. They now live more joyfully."

Venerable Ananda smiled and nodded. The difference between them only grew. Vasapa carried the hatred of a past life, unwashed and unreleased. She did not know that her son, Virudhaka, harbored a grudge against the Shakya clan, nor did she teach him letting go. Malika, meanwhile, changed day by day, becoming a trusted advisor to the king in his final years.

The turning point came when Venerable Ananda returned to the monastery and reported to the Buddha about these two kinds of learners. The Buddha gazed quietly, then recited this verse: "Like a beautiful flower, full of color but without scent, so too are well-spoken words that are not practiced — they bear no fruit." He meant that Vasapa could speak the teachings in ways that pleased the king, but because she did not practice them, she gained no benefit. The latter part of the verse was meant to praise Queen Malika — one who had both color and fragrance, whose words were matched by joyful action.

From then on, Malika continued to live virtuously, helping King Pasenadi become an ideal king, and the people prospered under his rule. Vasapa, because she did not practice, could do nothing when Prince Virudhaka later rose up and massacred the Shakya clan. She could only watch in anguish as the force of karma swept everything away.

In the years that followed, the palace still glowed with lamplight every night, but the laughter of the maidservants under Malika's care was always warm, while Vasapa's quarters remained silent, the heart of that mother heavy with an unspoken regret. Whether one practices or not, in the end, drew two very different lives within the very same golden palace.

The Meaning of the Story

Hearing and speaking the teachings without practicing them is like a beautiful flower without fragrance — it brings no benefit. Only when we bring the Buddha's teachings (Dharma) into our daily lives can we create joy for ourselves and for others.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang.