Day 15, Month of Chaithra, BCE 443, University of Takshasila
Several times, over the years, Jivaka had wondered about his purpose in life. ‘ What was the point of his birth ?’
The first time he’d asked himself that question had been when he found out why he’d been named “Jivaka”. The second had been when Prince Abhaya had practically adopted him, and given him a home in the royal palace. The third had been when he’d been barred from certain sections of the self-same palace. The fourth had been when his mentor had informed him that it would be best if he trained himself in some profession. The fifth was when he’d finally arrived at the greatest university of those times, Takshasila, and found that no one was willing to train him as a physician.
Now was the sixth time — when Acharya Athideva, a member of the Council of Examiners, refused to evaluate him after seven years of study.
“I do not see the point of allowing him to be a physician,” he said now, surveying him coldly. “A brat without parents, or birth…”
“I must beg to differ on both counts,” argued another member, his former teacher, Acharya Atreya. “This young man is a highly competent physician, and of immense comfort to his patients...”
“… born to a dancer, and thrown on a rubbish heap,” Athideva went on, as if there had been no interruption. “He would have been feasted on by crows and dogs if not for Prince Abhaya’s rescue — and you ask me to certify him as a physician!”
“To refuse a man his due, just because of his birth, is the most ridiculous piece of nonsense I’ve ever heard,” Atreya’s words dripped acid.
One more test
Jivaka stood in front of them both, head bowed, hands gripped tightly, mind in turmoil. What was going to be his fate? ‘What is the purpose of my life?’
Athideva regarded him thoughtfully. “You have passed the exams set by the Council, but you will not be considered a physician, unless you pass mine.”
“Tour the area outside Takshasila for a distance of a hundred miles, and bring me a plant that is not medicinal. That will decide your fate.”
Jivaka made his way outside the university, picking his way along roads, copses, forests and dry, barren fields. Over the next week, he picked this plant and that, breaking off tree branches, and smelling nuts and fruits. By the end of the seventh day, he had to admit defeat.
“I could find no plant without medicinal qualities, Acharya,” Jivaka said softly, the next morning, bowing in front of the Council of Examiners. “Even grass has some use. I have failed.”
Athideva stared at him, speechless for a moment. Abruptly, he left the hall with a swish of his clothes.
As Jivaka stared at the departing teacher, his own teacher, Atreya, smiled at him. “On the contrary, Jivaka, you have passed. A true physician knows that every single creation on earth has some purpose. It will be my pleasure to certify you as a physician.”
‘Even grass has a reason to live ,’ Jivaka pondered, as he received accreditation. ‘But what’s mine?’
Day 23, Month of Vaishakha, BCE 421, Outskirts of Rajagriha (present-day Bihar)
Years had passed, and Jivaka was still pondering that question. These days, he had no cause to complain, career-wise. He’d cured people on their deathbeds; found medicines for seemingly incurable diseases; performed complicated operations and was now physician to the king. Royals from kingdoms as far off as Ujjain sought him; his fame had now spread far and wide.
‘I suppose this is my purpose ,’ Jivaka mused, as he travelled in a palanquin to his quarters in the royal palace. And yet … there was a strange restlessness inside him. There was a commotion on the road; the palanquin came to a stop. Loud voices reached him; Jivaka looked out. “What is it? Who…”
A lanky, gaunt ascetic dressed in saffron robes, pushed past the guards and came up. “Please, honoured Jivaka… I need your help. My master is ill, in the forest. I tried to heal him, but…”
“Who is it?”
“If you will come with me, I will take you to him.”
It didn’t even occur to Jivaka to refuse. His guide bade him to get down, and walk on a small path that led to a forest.
“Why, I believe I know you,” Jivaka said, suddenly.
His guide hesitated. “We have met — in Takshasila. I am…”
“Acharya Athideva. And if you failed to cure him, then I…”
“He asked for you. And that makes me believe that you might succeed.”
By this time, they had reached a clearing. In the distance, under a large tree lay someone, surrounded by several monks. They parted at Jivaka’s arrival, revealing the patient. Jivaka took a look at him, and stopped.
The man’s body showed signs of old age — but his eyes! Never, in his long career had Jivaka seen eyes of such gentleness, warmth, or knowledge. Jivaka’s feet took him to the man automatically, and the physician found himself bending over the patient.
“I have waited a long time for you, Jivaka,” said the patient, softly. “Welcome.”
The words stuck in Jivaka’s throat. He knew this person — no, this great person, of whom wonderful legends circulated, in many kingdoms. Suddenly, the question that had haunted him all his life cropped up. ‘What is my purpose in life?’
Jivaka knew he’d found his answer. He pressed his forehead to the patient’s feet.
“I am here to serve you to the best of my ability, Lord Buddha.”
Historical Fact
Buddha Poornima, a festival that commemorates the birth, enlightenment, and death of Lord Buddha, was observed on May 4, this year. So acclaimed was Jivaka that he became known as the Founder of Buddhist medicine, and remained physician to the Buddha, until the end of his days. Even today, he is revered as the Father of Thai medicine.
World List
Mentor: A trusted teacher or counsellor who gives advice and guidance to a less experienced or younger person over a period of time.
Council: A group of people called together or elected to execute a certain administrative function.
Palanquin: A facility used in olden times to transport usually just one person in a box-like carrier with men supporting the extended poles on their shoulders.
