The Disrespectful Disciple

A quiet forest lay beneath the shade of ancient trees. A simple thatched hut nestled beside a small stream, where the great Arhat Kashyapa often sat in meditative concentration. But today, the peace was shattered. Violent sounds of smashing erupted from within his dwelling.

The young disciple, his face red with rage, held a large stick. He frantically smashed every clay pot and water vessel that Kashyapa used daily. Ceramic shards scattered across the earthen floor. He overturned the small table, spilling scrolls of talipot palm leaves. When finished, he turned his back and left without a single glance behind.

This disciple had followed Kashyapa for several years of practice. Yet from the very beginning, a fire of jealousy toward a fellow disciple had smoldered within him. The other was gentle, diligent, and always praised by the teacher, entrusted with important duties. Though also a disciple, his own practice was poor, often earning the teacher's rebuke. Each time he saw his companion favored, his heart would burn with torment.

“Why is the teacher so partial? I am a disciple too—why does he trust only that one?” he would tell himself, yet never dared to ask directly.

Once, when someone invited Kashyapa to a dana meal for the Sangha, the teacher did not bring him along, fearing his coarse behavior might be improper. Furious, he went out alone, using his teacher’s name to solicit food. He told devotees, “I am Kashyapa’s disciple. My teacher sent me to collect offerings for the Sangha.” Relying on the teacher’s reputation, he gathered much fine food, eating and wasting the excess.

When Kashyapa learned of this, he summoned the disciple and sternly said, “You must not act this way. Devotees should make offerings from their own heartfelt inspiration; one must not beg or solicit. This violates the precepts.”

He bowed his head to listen, but inwardly he did not acknowledge his fault. Instead, his anger deepened. “Even over a bit of food, he scolds me! He despises me—he only cares for the other!” he thought, grinding his teeth.

Some days later, Kashyapa had to leave. The moment the teacher vanished from sight, his restraint broke. His fury reached its peak. He seized a stick, burst into the teacher’s dwelling, and smashed everything to pieces. The fired clay pots shattered, water flooding the floor. He kicked over the leaf shelter, then left without a word of farewell.

He returned to lay life, marrying a woman both beautiful and wealthy. At first, he thought he had found happiness. But after only a week, his wife’s attitude changed. She looked at him with hatred, constantly cursing and driving him from the house. His life became a hell on earth. In his suffering, he created more bad karma, dying young. For the crime of disrespecting an Arhat, he fell into hell realms to endure immeasurable torment.

**The Meaning of the Story**

A person who cannot see their own faults, who, even when reminded, refuses to correct themselves and instead harbors resentment, is a fool without virtue. We must constantly examine ourselves, acknowledge our mistakes and correct them, never allowing jealousy and anger to lead us down the path of suffering.

Compiled from a Dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang.