The Two Queens
One afternoon in the ancient capital of Kosambi, golden sunlight stretched across red-tiled roofs. Yet, within the palace walls, the atmosphere was heavy, as if a storm were brewing from within. In the upper garden, Queen Samavati stood quietly with her attendants, offering incense before a small statue of the Buddha. Her eyes were gentle, reflecting a profound peace. She smiled softly at the sound of birds singing, as though no afflictions (kleshas) of the world could touch her heart.
In another corner of the palace, Queen Magandhiya stood by a window, her brow furrowed and her gaze sharp. She looked toward the garden with cold intensity. She ground her teeth, thinking of the ascetic Gotama whom she hated to her bones. He had dared to scorn her beauty in front of her parents. Since that day, only one thought remained in her mind: to destroy him and all who followed his path.
Magandhiya’s parents were wise Brahmins who understood physiognomy. They had rejected many marriage proposals, believing their daughter was destined to be an empress. When they met the Buddha, they were astonished by His supreme beauty and thought Him worthy of their daughter. But the Buddha calmly replied:
"This body is merely a bag of skin filled with impurities. I would not wish to touch it even with my toe."
Hearing this, her parents suddenly awakened to the truth and took refuge in the Buddha. Magandhiya, however, felt hatred reach its peak. She vowed, "I will make him pay." Using her beauty, she seduced King Udena, becoming his queen, and constantly urged him to oppose the Buddha's teachings.
Meanwhile, Samavati, the virtuous queen, devoted herself entirely to taking refuge in the Triple Gem. She regularly made offerings to the Buddha and the Sangha, encouraging her attendants to live according to the Dharma. Born into a wealthy family, she had fled into the forest during a cholera epidemic. After her parents died, she returned and was adopted by Ghosaka, the king’s treasurer. Due to her beauty and virtue, she was brought into the palace as a queen.
Magandhiya grew increasingly jealous of Samavati. She repeatedly told the king that Samavati plotted rebellion, but the king did not believe her. Instead, Magandhiya sent people to slander the Buddha everywhere, even organizing crowds to insult Him when He went for alms. Yet, the Buddha remained serene, unmoved by their hostility.
One day, while the king was away, Magandhiya ordered her agents to secretly seal the doors of Samavati’s palace. They poured oil throughout the building and set it ablaze. The fire raged violently, consuming the entire structure. Samavati and nearly one hundred attendants perished in the sea of flames. Even in death, she maintained a tranquil mind, harboring no resentment, passing away while reciting the Buddha’s name.
When the king returned and saw the devastation, he collapsed on the steps in utter agony. Magandhiya stood beside him, feeling satisfaction inside but feigning sorrow outside. The king asked:
"Who caused this tragedy?"
Magandhiya quickly replied, "Your servant removed this nuisance for your majesty."
King Udena nodded, but a cold light flashed in his eyes. "You have done well. I shall reward you and all your relatives."
Overjoyed, Magandhiya sent messengers to invite her entire clan to the palace to receive rewards. But as soon as they arrived, the king ordered them bound, buried up to their waists, and trampled to death by plowing oxen. Not a single one survived. As for Magandhiya, the king had her burned alive right before everyone’s eyes.
The entire city was shaken by these gruesome deaths. People whispered about the fate of the two queens. The bhikkhus approached the Buddha to ask:
"World-Honored One, why did Samavati, the virtuous woman, die so tragically? And why did Magandhiya, the malicious one, also meet such a terrible end?"
The Buddha looked at the monks, His voice deep and warm:
"Monks, although Samavati died, she lived a meaningful life because she practiced the Dharma, took refuge in the Triple Gem, and brought peace to others. Magandhiya, though still breathing, had long been dead because her heart was filled with resentment and jealousy, devoid of any compassion."
He paused, then continued:
"A person who lives without practicing, without doing good, and only exists in selfishness and anger, is like someone already dead. A person who knows how to practice, whether living or dying, possesses a truly meaningful life."
From that time, the Buddha taught the monks this verse:
"The one who lives meaningfully is the one who practices the Dharma. To live as if dead is the state of those with evil minds. Understanding this clearly, the wise strive diligently, cultivating morality, meditative concentration, and wisdom, to attain the supreme nirvana."
The story of the two queens spread throughout the kingdoms, reminding everyone of the true value of life.
The Meaning of the Story
This tale teaches us that a meaningful life does not depend on longevity or wealth, but on whether we practice the Dharma, live virtuously, and bring peace to those around us. Those who live only in selfishness, anger, and jealousy are dead even while they breathe. Conversely, those who cultivate their practice remain alive in spirit, even after death. Let us always nurture compassion and let go of resentment, so that our lives may become meaningful and peaceful.
Compiled from the dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang
AI-assisted translation from the Vietnamese original.
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