The Proud Monk and the Verse on the True Practitioner

Late at night, in an ancient forest high upon a mountain, the wind howled through the canopy of towering trees like the moaning of all living beings. Three exhausted princes sat beside a crystal-clear lake, its surface as still as an enormous mirror reflecting the light of the midnight moon. The eldest brother, Mahim Sasa, parched with thirst, looked at his younger brothers with a heart full of anguish. Only a few nights before, they had been princes living in palaces of gold and jade, yet now they were hiding like thieves in this wild and dangerous wilderness.

The three brothers were the sons of a king who ruled a vast kingdom. The mother of Mahim Sasa and his younger brother Chanda had died early, and the king had married a second queen, who gave birth to the youngest prince, Suria. But the stepmother's heart never ceased scheming to secure the throne for her own son. She secretly bribed all the officials at court and built up a powerful faction. When she felt strong enough, she went openly to the king and demanded that he hand the throne over to Suria. Hearing this, the king's heart turned to ice. He understood at once that he had been completely isolated, and that if he refused, an uprising would erupt immediately. That night, the king secretly summoned his two elder sons, his voice trembling: "You must leave at once. Your lives are no longer safe here. Go hide in the distant border mountains. When you hear that I have passed away, return with your armies to take the throne. I will prepare the succession in name only, but as for real power, I have already lost."

The two sons obeyed their father and set out at once into the darkness of night. But the youngest, Suria, who had been deeply loved by his two brothers since childhood, happened to see them slipping away. Without knowing what was happening, he ran after them. By the next morning, all three princes had vanished. They crossed forests and streams, traveled paths no one could trace, and climbed to the highest mountain to escape the pursuit of their stepmother.

Now, after many long days and nights, all three were parched with thirst. Mahim Sasa looked down at the clear water shimmering in the moonlight, his heart leaping with joy. He turned to his brothers and said, "Go down and fetch some water for us to drink and cook with. I will stand watch here." The two younger brothers obeyed and ran eagerly down to the edge of the lake. But the moment they arrived, a strange dark figure appeared from the shadows. It was a yaksha, a being of extraordinary power and unpredictable temperament, capable of doing good yet also of devouring living creatures at any moment. This yaksha guarded the lake as its own private domain. It looked at the two young men and spoke in a deep voice: "You wish to drink from this lake? Then tell me, what is the way of the noble ones? If you can answer, I will let you drink. If not, I will seize you." The two brothers stammered, unable to speak. They had only been taught the arts of governing a kingdom at court, and had never heard of the way of the noble ones. The yaksha flew into a rage, seized them both, and locked them away in a dark stone cave.

Mahim Sasa waited on the shore, and when his brothers did not return, he began to worry. He rose and went down to the lake himself. The moment he arrived, the yaksha appeared again, its voice full of challenge: "Do you also wish to drink the water?" Mahim Sasa looked straight into its eyes and said calmly, "I have not come for water. I have come to find my two brothers." The yaksha sneered, "I have captured them. If you want them released, tell me the way of the noble ones. If you can speak it, I will release one of your brothers."

Mahim Sasa stood silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice warm and deep in the stillness of the night: "The noble one is one who has great love for all people. The heart is deeply humble, never seeing oneself as important. One lives a life of gentleness and reverence, even while remaining very serious and disciplined." Hearing this, the yaksha's fierce face suddenly softened. It pressed its palms together and bowed: "You have spoken truly. I will release one of your brothers." Mahim Sasa smiled and said, "Release my youngest brother." The yaksha narrowed its eyes, full of suspicion: "Just now you taught me the way of the noble ones, yet in the very next moment you violate it. By order of birth, Chanda should be released first. Why release the youngest?" Mahim Sasa looked the yaksha straight in the eye, his voice calm yet full of authority: "You know one thing but not two. If I asked you to release the brother born of the same mother as me, then later, when I return to the court, people would criticize me for favoring one mother over another. Such favoritism would make people think I only love brothers who share my mother, and not those of another mother. How then could anyone regard me as fair and upright enough to rule a kingdom? I accept that you keep my brother of the same mother, in order to save my brother of another mother, so that everyone may know that love knows no boundaries."

Hearing this, the yaksha was stunned. It gazed at the young prince with eyes full of admiration. It knelt down and said, "You are truly a person of virtue. I repent and reform." It released both brothers, and from that day on it served the three of them, using its powers to provide them with a stable life on the high mountain. The three brothers lived quietly, no longer intending to return and seize the throne by force, for with the youngest brother already with them, there was no one left to contend with. Only when they heard that their father had passed away did they return. Mahim Sasa ascended the throne, the two younger brothers were granted titles, and the yaksha was rewarded with a life of abundance.

When the Buddha finished telling this story, he looked directly at the wealthy monk standing naked before the assembly and said gently: "In that life, Mahim Sasa was myself. Chanda was Sariputta. Suria was Ananda. And the yaksha who heard my explanation and knew how to repent and reform, that is you today. Long ago, when you heard my explanation, you knew how to turn yourself around. Why is it that today, when I have scolded you only once, you flare up with such wounded pride?"

The wealthy monk stood frozen. His face, flushed red with anger, suddenly turned pale. He remembered the moment just before, when the Buddha had gently reminded him about guarding his possessions, and how he had flown into a rage, tearing off his robes and throwing them to the ground before everyone. He had believed that stripping off his clothes and living as a naked ascetic made him a true practitioner. But now, hearing the story of his past life, he finally understood. Tears rolled down his wrinkled cheeks. He fell to his knees, picked up his robes and draped them over himself, and said with a trembling voice: "Venerable One, I repent. I was wrong."

From that day on, the monk gave away all his possessions, lived in harmony with the Sangha, and devoted himself to practice. He no longer allowed wounded pride to cloud his wisdom. And the Buddha spoke this verse: "If doubt is not ended, then even if one goes naked, with matted hair, covering oneself in ashes, fasting, rolling on the ground, lying in filth, or squatting, one is still not a person of true goodness."

**The Meaning of the Story**

The greatest lesson that Dharma Master Thich Chan Quang wished to convey concerns wounded pride, the first gate that a practitioner must pass through. No matter how severe one's ascetic practices, no matter how many good deeds one performs, if the heart still holds pride, doubt, and afflictions (kleshas), one is not yet a true practitioner. Only one who knows how to repent and reform, who can receive a teacher's rebuke with a heart of joy, without anger and without making excuses, truly opens the gate into the house of the noble ones. Regard criticism as an opportunity to dissolve the ego and to perfect oneself.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Dharma Master Thich Chan Quang.