The Enmity of Prince Virudhaka

That afternoon, by the banks of the Achirawati River, the Venerable Ananda and the monks were washing their hands and feet after a long day of travel. The cool river water flowed through their fingers, carrying away the dust of the road. Standing on the bank, they adjusted their robes to dry, watching the water drift slowly by. No one spoke a word, yet in each heart there was a peace beyond description.

And yet, few knew that it was in this very land of Kosala that a terrible tragedy was about to unfold. A tragedy that would come not from natural disaster or invading armies, but from a seed of arrogance planted many decades before.

The story tells that King Pasenadi of the Kosala empire—a powerful ruler of a vast territory—out of reverence for the Buddha, wished to form a bond with the Sakya clan, the royal family of the small kingdom of Sakya. He sent envoys to ask for the hand of a Sakya princess. But the Sakya clan, though only a small kingdom, always considered themselves nobler than any other lineage. They looked down on King Pasenadi, believing he was unworthy of their blood.

Yet they also feared provoking a mighty empire. So they devised a plan: they chose a beautiful slave girl from the palace, dressed her finely, taught her to speak and carry herself like a princess, and gave her in marriage to King Pasenadi. That young woman gave birth to a prince, whom they named Virudhaka.

The years passed, and Prince Virudhaka grew into a man skilled in both letters and warfare. In his heart, he always longed to visit his mother's homeland—a place he imagined would welcome him with warm affection. But each time he raised the matter, his mother hesitated and avoided the subject. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, he set out with his army for Sakya.

When his entourage of horses halted before the gates of Kapilavastu, Prince Virudhaka stepped down, his heart pounding with anticipation. He hoped for embraces, for warm and friendly smiles. But instead, he was met with cold glances, perfunctory words, and an inexplicable aloofness. Everyone in the Sakya royal family avoided him. No one wished to spend time with him, no one wanted to talk with him. He grew frustrated and puzzled, but no one offered an explanation.

Then one day, by chance, he overheard a conversation among members of the royal family, and the truth was revealed to him: his mother was not a princess, but only a slave. The entire Sakya clan had deceived his father. He was not a noble prince, but the son of a slave.

"Why? Why would they do this to me?" He ground his teeth, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms. Blood flowed, but he felt no pain. In his heart, there was only a fire of rage blazing ever brighter.

When he returned home, he told his mother everything. She wept, but nothing could be changed. When King Pasenadi learned the truth, instead of comforting them, he flew into a fury. He punished mother and son, demoting them to true slavery, forcing them to carry water and chop firewood in the royal palace. With each passing day, with each drop of sweat, with each command they were forced to obey, the hatred in Prince Virudhaka's heart grew a little stronger.

"I will never forget this," he told himself, his eyes red with fury. "Sakya clan, you will pay for this."

As time went on, a general close to King Pasenadi, who harbored a grudge against the king, secretly allied himself with Prince Virudhaka. Together they plotted a coup. One day, when King Pasenadi went to visit the Buddha, leaving his armor, sword, and royal seal outside the hermitage, the general ordered his soldiers to seize all the weapons and horses, then march back to the city and shut its gates.

When King Pasenadi emerged, he was stunned: everything had vanished. He hurried back to the city, but the gates were sealed shut. On the city wall stood Prince Virudhaka, robed in royal garments, sword of command at his side, gazing down coldly:

"Father, this throne now belongs to me. I will not kill you, but you must go elsewhere."

With no path left to him, King Pasenadi fled to the kingdom of Magadha to seek refuge with King Ajatasattu—his own grandson. He spent the final days of his life in exile, and died in a foreign land.

After ascending the throne, King Virudhaka nourished his desire for revenge against the Sakya clan. Though the Buddha intercepted him time and again, trying to turn him back, King Virudhaka found ways to avoid the Buddha, taking roundabout routes to advance his army. In the end, he massacred nearly the entire Sakya clan, sparing no one. Only a handful escaped, carrying the lineage forward to this day in a small village in Nepal.

On the journey home, as the army crossed a river, a great flood swept them all away. The king and every one of his soldiers perished. The vengeance was complete, yet no one escaped the law of cause and effect (karmic law).

The Meaning of the Story

This story is a profound lesson about arrogance and contempt for others. Because the Sakya clan considered themselves superior, they deceived and demeaned others, planting the seeds of a genocidal catastrophe. Pride, though small as a grain of sand, can grow into an unimaginable disaster. The Buddha taught that all things in this world arise from conditions (dependent origination), and the fruits of karma spare no one. Live with humility and sincerity, and never look down on anyone, for the seed of hatred sown today may blossom into the bitter fruit of suffering (dukkha) tomorrow.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang.