The Two Queens

The capital city of Kosambi was like a pot of water on the verge of boiling. On every street and beneath the ancient banyan trees, curses and whispered gossip echoed everywhere. People said that a monk from the Sakya clan had arrived, daring to despise even the most powerful Brahmin families. Yet, some people quietly sought him out, sat listening to the dharma talk, and returned home with faces glowing with an unusual light.

In this turbulent city, King Udena’s palace became a meeting place for two opposing forces. On one side was Queen Samavati, a gentle and wise woman who always took refuge in the Three Jewels. She not only practiced herself but also guided nearly one hundred court ladies to follow the Buddha’s teachings (Dharma). They listened to the dharma talk, chanted sutras, and lived pure lives amidst the luxury of the royal chambers. On the other side was Queen Magandiya, a woman of stunning beauty whose heart was filled with hatred. She despised the Buddha to her very bones, and she also hated Samavati, the rival who had stolen the king’s affection.

Magandiya’s hatred did not arise without cause. Long ago, when she was a beautiful young maiden from a prestigious Brahmin family, her parents rejected many suitors, waiting for a worthy emperor. One day, her father happened to meet the Buddha on the road. He was stunned by the Buddha’s radiant appearance and extraordinary presence. He thought, “This is the man my daughter must marry!” He rushed home to bring his wife and daughter to see him. But the Buddha spoke gently:

“In this world, all things are impermanence (anicca). The body you call beautiful is merely a leather bag filled with impurities. I would never wish to touch it, even with my toe.”

Her parents awakened upon hearing this and immediately asked to ordain as monks under the Buddha. But Magandiya, proud and arrogant, flew into a rage. She harbored deep resentment toward the monk who dared to insult her. Later, she entered the palace and became King Udena’s queen. Her hatred remained intact, and when she discovered that Samavati, her romantic rival, was a disciple of that same enemy, her jealousy burned even more fiercely.

Magandiya began using every scheme possible. She slandered Samavati to the king, claiming she secretly made offerings and disrespected the monarch. The king, lacking right view, listened to everything but took no action. Seeing the king unmoved, Magandiya organized people to curse the Buddha everywhere. Whenever the Buddha and the Sangha went for alms, they surrounded them with vulgar insults. But the Buddha remained calm, like a lotus blooming in muddy water.

One day, while the king was away, Magandiya decided to act. She ordered her servants to seal all the doors of Samavati’s palace, poured oil everywhere, and set it on fire. The flames rose high, consuming the palace along with nearly one hundred court ladies and Queen Samavati. It is said that in her final moments, Samavati sat peacefully reciting the Buddha’s name, unafraid, because she knew she had lived a meaningful life.

When the king returned and saw the ashes, he collapsed on the steps, paralyzed by pain. Someone asked:

“Your Majesty, who caused this?”

King Udena gritted his teeth and laid a trap:

“Samavati troubled me greatly while she was alive. Whoever did this must love me deeply.”

Believing him, Magandiya proudly replied:

“I did it, Your Majesty, because I loved you so much that I removed this nuisance.”

The king smiled coldly:

“My dear consort is truly devoted! I will reward you. Call all your relatives here; I will reward them all.”

Overjoyed, Magandiya sent messengers to gather her entire extended family, near and far. When they assembled before the palace, the king ordered them bound, buried up to their waists, and trampled to death by plowing oxen. None survived. As for Magandiya, the king had her burned alive before everyone’s eyes. Her death was terrifyingly gruesome.

News spread throughout Kosambi and neighboring kingdoms. Shocked bhikkhus came to ask the Buddha about such a horrific end. The Buddha looked at them silently, then said:

“Monks, there are those who live yet are already dead, because evil karma has destroyed all goodness within them. There are those who die yet still live, because their lives were full of meaning. Samavati, though dead, remains a person who lived meaningfully because she practiced the Dharma. Magandiya, though alive, died long ago because hatred burned her mind/heart.”

The Buddha concluded with a verse:

“To live meaningfully is to practice the path. To live as if dead is to harbor evil intent. Understanding this clearly, the wise strive diligently, cultivating morality, meditative concentration, and wisdom, attaining the supreme nirvana.”

These two women—one burned in a palace, the other in the royal courtyard—had fates worlds apart. One departed in peace, having spent her life doing good and nurturing compassion. The other departed in agony, having spent her life nurturing hatred. Their deaths offer a great lesson for all beings: do not let hatred burn your soul, for when we sow bad causes, we reap bitter effects.

**The Meaning of the Story**

The story of Queens Samavati and Magandiya teaches us that a meaningful life does not depend on longevity, wealth, or status. It depends on whether we practice the Dharma, live virtuously, and bring happiness to others. Those who nurture hatred and jealousy are spiritually dead, even if they still breathe. Conversely, those who live selflessly and seek goodness have completed a meaningful life, even after death. Always watch your mind/heart. Do not let negative emotions like anger and envy dominate you, for they are the fires that destroy your own happiness.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang